


mirage

by Akane21



Series: when a new day comes for us [4]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Cheating, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Canon, Resurrection, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 52,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22693279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akane21/pseuds/Akane21
Summary: If someone asked Naruto whether he was happy, he’d flash one of his brightest smiles and say, “Of course! I’m the happiest person in the world, ’ttebayo!”But that would be a lie.Naruto had everything a man could dream of; but he wasn’t happy.And each time he looked at Hinata, so beautiful and perfect, he wished someone else was standing beside him instead.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Hidan/Kakuzu (Naruto), Hidan/Uzumaki Himawari, Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto, Kakuzu/Uzumaki Naruto
Series: when a new day comes for us [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816597
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

One day Hinata cuts her hair; not very short, just to shoulder-length. She smiles a little sheepishly and says, “Decided to change my look a little. You don’t like it, Naruto-kun?”

Naruto shakes his head.

“You’re beautiful with any hair style, Hinata,” he watches her cheeks begin to blush lightly.

And he’s not lying—Hinata is amazing, she’s _perfect_.

But if Naruto wanted perfection, then... things would have been different from the very beginning.

Hinata is responsive, it’s easy to embrace her—she always returns the embrace, kisses him—just right, just the way it should be. But at times, as Naruto closes his arms around her graceful body, he still expects to be pushed away instinctively— _personal space, yes_ —and then to have his hands squeezed in a silent apology.

_Or, like it often happened, to have his hands kissed—lightly, carefully, which still left him feeling so flustered._

Hinata doesn’t do that; as perfect as she is, she responds to embrace and touch immediately, and she has nothing to apologize for.

In the bedroom she’s as gentle as ever, wrapping her arms around his neck, returning kisses and tender caresses, repeating ‘I love you’—and not expecting Naruto to say it back.

He has nothing to complain about—Hinata is amazing, but despite that, he misses the hot weight of a body pressing him into the bed, misses firm, almost painful grip on his wrists, misses pleasantly stinging bites; and no matter how hard he tries to chase these thoughts away, he can’t.

Hinata would agree to become a little rougher for Naruto if he asked; but only if he asked, because it’s not really what she likes, and in any case, it won’t be what Naruto needs and it won’t be _right_.

What’s right _—when no words are necessary, when you’re choking from all the feelings overwhelming, when you grip the other’s hands tightly, when your lips are sore from kissing for a long while after—_

 _Right_ —when you truly need someone.

Naruto says nothing, because Hinata shouldn’t feel bad because of the fact that after so many years he still can’t seem to let go.

They have a perfect life, an inspiring picture painted in faded colors.

Hinata’s tender embrace, her hand in his—fragile, pale, _not the one he wants to hold_.

Naruto loves Hinata—he truly, genuinely does.

But he loves her in a different way, not as passionately, and it must be good—you can’t build a family on passion alone, and Naruto has always dreamt about having a happy family.

Hinata gives him all that he’s ever dreamt about.

_That’s not what he needs anymore._

Naruto loves her.

_Naruto doesn’t forget._

_About the blood on his hands._

Naruto smiles bitterly at Hinata; and thinks that in her white eyes, he wants to see glints of bright green.

***

“Tell me, how did you and mom fall in love?”

“Well... Hinata has always been by my side—always supported me, understood me like no other. I used to only think of her as a friend, but gradually everything changed... and I realized how much I truly care for her.” And he casts a quick guilty look to the side, forcing a joyful smile.

And his words are lifeless, _insincere_.

Father never even says ‘love’, only ‘I care for her’.

Maybe he means it.

If you love mom, why don’t you kiss her, don’t hug her randomly—like Shikamaru-san and Temari-san do; even Sasuke-san, always so grim, changes whenever he’s next to his wife.

And father isn’t cold or distant, but it seems like he’s with mom—with _them_ —because he has to, because it’s _right_.

Because Himawari isn’t blind—and definitely not dumb, no matter what Boruto says at times. She sees perfectly well that their family is far from the ideal it seems from the outside.

She sees how mom sometimes locks herself in the bedroom and comes out after a while with her eyes red. She sees how dad is trying to spend as much time working as possible, barely even appearing at home; the most he can do is send a clone to a family dinner or celebration.

Yes, he’s missed their birthdays quite a few times, even though he promised each time that he’d definitely come, find the time, because _it’s important_.

Himawari is no longer hurt by this, but it doesn’t mean she is happy.

She’s just used to it.

She understands that dad simply doesn’t know how to deal with the difficulties and prefers to hide from them; and she really tries not to blame him for that, though she’d like to rely not only on mom and brother, but him as well.

She tries to _understand_.

Boruto, on the contrary, refuses to understand—he’s older, but much less forgiving of their father’s mistakes.

There are fights and loud shouting, after which Boruto leaves the house for the rest of the day, and father, shaking his head, locks himself in his office.

Then, for a while, everything is back to normal—but only for a while.

Mother tries to mend things between them, but she rarely succeeds.

“The Hokage’s position requires a lot of attention and responsibility,” and she shakes her head in reproach.

“What about us?” Boruto yells in response. “He doesn’t give a damn about us! And about you!”

And, turning to father, “Just go fuck yourself, _Lord Seventh Hokage!”_

And Himawari’s words are left unheard by them—they say she’s too young to understand.

Seriously, Himawari thinks, annoyed, I understand everything.

It’s obvious to anyone that their family isn’t quite alright.

In all the photos they are happy, cheerful, hugging each other and smiling into the camera.

There’s a photo of mom, Boruto and Himawari at the desk in father’s office.

And in the drawer, hidden under the pile of paper, there is another photo—crumpled and old, where still young father is laughing so genuinely, hugging someone who’s face is scratched out with a black marker.

Himawari hopes that father doesn’t know she’s seen that picture.

And she hopes that mom hadn’t seen it.

Father always drinks coffee in the morning; it’s sickeningly sweet, with sugary aftertaste which lingers for long—Himawari had tried it once.

It’s more like sugar with coffee, sugar that never fully melts, and Himawari has no idea how dad can drink this.

He doesn’t even like it, grimacing and almost spitting after each sip, but he drinks it all the time.

“Sweet, just how you like,” mom says every time she puts the cup in front of him.

Father doesn’t like this coffee, and he probably doesn’t love mom—but for some reason he keeps drinking that sugary sweetness and for some reason keeps playing the role of a perfect father and husband.

Actually, Himawari can’t say for sure; maybe dad loves mom in his own way. Maybe he cares about her.

Himawari heard once that at some point dad was in love with Sakura-san, and it seems quite logical. Maybe the feeling was still there; maybe he tried to forget her but couldn’t.

The person from the photo doesn’t really resemble Sakura, even though the face isn’t visible.

In any case, Sakura is happy with Sasuke, and dad has always seemed so happy with mom.

But only _seemed._

Himawari isn’t sure, but she thinks that there’s always been a strange tension between mom and dad; one that got stronger over the years.

They were never that _perfect family_.

And there’s a bitter feeling inside Himawari’s chest whenever father once again says guiltily, “not now, Himawari, I’m busy,” or “I’m really tired today, can it wait?”

It doesn’t matter what exactly ‘can wait’—whether it’s a training, a simple conversation or some request (though she hardly ever asks him for anything).

For everyone around they are happy.

Mom smiles when Sakura or Hanabi come to visit them, but Himawari notices the bitterness carefully hidden behind this smile.

Father is the same, hiding his true emotions behind the smile.

One day, Himawari saw him crying when she entered his office.

He was sitting at his desk then, clutching his hair with fingers, his whole body tense; only his shoulders were trembling visibly.

So broken and defenseless, he didn’t look at all like that strong and constantly smiling man that Himawari witnessed daily.

She left without saying a word, carefully closing the door behind her; and to this day, she hasn’t mentioned it, even though she thinks that father noticed her then. But he also doesn’t show it; and again, everything seems to be fine.

But it’s not.

Sometimes, very rarely, Himawari hears her parents fighting.

Mom’s voice, usually calm, is trembling and breaking in these moments; “you could’ve been spending more time with your family, Naruto-kun! Not with me—at least with _them_!”

Father defends himself uncertainly, as though knowing he’s in the wrong; “I’m trying, Hinata, really...”

And then the familiar excuses follow: work, responsibilities, exhaustion, _well, we’re great, aren’t we_.

In these moments Himawari pretends to hear nothing—it’s pointless, it will only upset mom even more.

Himawari doesn’t like being home for longer than necessary, doesn’t like playing her role in this _ideal family_ she’s so sick of, pretending that they’re _great._

No problems.

Perfect.

Sickening.

And only with one person she can be herself without looking back at what’s ‘right’ and ‘necessary’; though, perhaps, he’s hardly a _person_ now, but he’s the only one Himawari can call her friend.

Or something more.

***

“I’m a real shinobi now, Hidan!” Himawari shows him the headband she’s gotten only a couple hours ago after successfully passing her genin exam.

Of course, it’s not such a great achievement compared to, say, Sarada, who’s only two years older and already a chūnin; but Himawari is still proud of herself.

And she shares it first with Hidan, not with her family.

“Congratulations, kid,” Hidan grins. “I’d hug you if I had a body, but I guess words will have to do.”

Although mockery is obvious in his tone, it’s not condescending—even somewhat kind. He seems to find Himawari amusing, but not annoying—it’s quite enough.

At least he’s honest; that’s why Himawari appreciates his company.

“I missed you,” she admits, sitting down next to him.

“It’s only been a day,” Hidan says, trying to appear nonchalant. “Though... I almost died of boredom myself. Such fun, staring at the wall or at the floor. At least you bring a nice change of view.”

Even though he tries to conceal it, Himawari hears joy in his voice, and she feels so lightheaded—Hidan is happy to see her, she doesn’t come here in vain.

“Tell me something.”

“What do you want to hear?” Himawari shrugs. “The same as always... Dad is all consumed by his work. I think he doesn’t even remember I was supposed to have the exam today.”

“You daddy’s an asshole,” Hidan grimaces.

Somehow, it feels like he’s putting too much emotion into these words, as if it’s something personal.

It’s strange, since he doesn’t know father personally—well, he shouldn’t. Is he so worried about Himawari that he almost hates Naruto without having met him once?

“Don’t say that,” Himawari does love father, with all his flaws, and doesn’t think he’s a _bad_ person—perhaps a bad father. But there are worse fathers—and some don’t even have them at all. She has nothing to complain about. “Dad’s just...”

“An asshole,” Hidan repeats, unusually firm—and this tone of his is so different from his usual sarcastic one that Himawari can’t help but shudder.

Hidan sighs, then chuckles again.

“Well, whatever. Let’s talk ’bout something else.”

Himawari agrees—she also doesn’t like this topic too much.

But to be honest, they don’t have that many topics for conversation; there isn’t a lot happening in her life, though it may change when she finally starts going on real missions. But for now, what else can she tell Hidan? Himawari doesn’t want to remember another fight between dad and Boruto, or mom’s sad look and trembling voice; she doesn’t want to think about it at least now.

“Tell me more about Jashin,” she asks instead.

She does like hearing about his god; it’s one of the few things that Hidan talks about with sincere passion and enthusiasm.

Hidan laughs,

“You ask so often. I kinda hope you’ve decided to convert.”

“Maybe someday,” Himawari says, sits back—and listens.

And the time flies.

***

Himawari inspects the ground—she’s certain that she’s just heard a voice coming from under there.

She wonders how it is possible.

She stomps her feet in hopes of making the voice-from-the-ground say something else, and it doesn’t keep her waiting.

“You fucking bastard, did you come here to laugh?” the voice shouts—but it sounds muffled, it must be very deep down.

“I’m not a bastard,” she objects. “I’m Himawari. And who are you?”

The voice is silent for a while, as if thinking of the answer. Then he speaks again, “Shit, a girl... What are you doing here?” And he ignores her question completely.

Himawari twists a short strand of hair around her finger.

“I was just taking a walk. And I heard you.”

“Well, how great,” the voice says again. “Are you alone here?”

Himawari nods at first, then remembers that he can’t see her.

“Yep, I am.”

“Listen,” the voice becomes livelier. “You’re a good girl, right, Himawari-chan?”

“I think so,” Himawari laughs—he’s funny and not scary at all, even though he talks kind of weird.

“Then, Himawari-chan, you can get me out of here, can’t you? Good girls should help people who are in trouble, so says Jashin-sama.”

“Who is Jashin-sama?”

“You get me out and I’ll tell you,” the voice promises. “Come on, Himawari-chan!”

Himawari thinks. On one hand, he’s right; if he’s in trouble, Himawari must help, as a future shinobi and just a good person; but on the other, what if there was a reason he was trapped underground? Her parents and the teachers at the Academy have always taught her to be careful and not to trust anyone she met.

“Please, Himawari-chan?” the voice pleads, and Himawari gives in.

“I’ll try,” she says. “But I don’t know how to get you out...”

“Ugh, fuck, just dig up the ground, you seem to be standing right above my head,” the voice changes, becoming more irritated, but Himawari thinks she can understand—she’d be pretty angry, too, if she was buried in the ground for... a very long time, probably.

And Himawari tries to dig, but her hands are too weak, and soon she falls to the ground, weary.

“I can’t,” she admits. “But you just wait a little! I’ll call dad, he surely will help you!”

“Who’s your father?” the voice suddenly sounds concerned.

“My dad is the Seventh Hokage!” Himawari says proudly. “He’s very brave and strong, he’ll find a way to get you out of here!”

“Woah, shit, wait!” now he’s actually nervous. “Look, Himawari-chan, maybe we shouldn’t distract your father from his very important business? He won’t like it if you distract him from his paperwork or whatever the Hokage do, right?”

Himawari bites her lip, thinking; yes, dad won’t get angry, of course, but it may turn out that he’ll have more work later. And he’s already so tired from all this, Himawari doesn’t want to burden him more.

“See,” the voice seems to interpret her silence correctly. “You can do it yourself, I’m sure! You’re a shinobi, right?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’ve been at the Academy for two years already!”

“So you definitely can get me out,” the voice says assuredly. “Just think of a way—I’m definitely not going anywhere,” and he laughs, slightly sad.

“I will,” Himawari nods; she feels flattered that this man believes in her so much. “And what’s your name?”

“Hidan,” the voice says after some hesitation. “Real happy to meet you, Himawari-chan.”

***

Himawari doesn’t manage to get to Hidan the next day—only in almost a week, but she hopes he won’t be too mad about this. As soon as she has free time, she rushes into the forest, trying her hardest not to be seen.

Something tells her that no one needs to know about Hidan, and she sneaks through the village as discreetly as possible.

Once in the forest, Himawari wants to go straight to the place where she heard the voice, but after a while she realizes that she’s going in circles. And then the deer come out from behind the trees—there are so many of them that Himawari wonders where they came from and how she didn’t see them before. The deer surround her, watching her with dark eyes; and Himawari feels a little uneasy for some reason.

This strange feeling fades when she begins petting the deer, listening to them snorting funny—but not leaving.

Himawari decides to just wait until the animals get bored and simply go away.

Almost an hour passes, and the deer don’t seem to plan on going anywhere.

But instead, Shikamaru appears, and on his face is utter confusion when he notices Himawari. She shoots him an equally confused look—what is he doing here? Looking for her?

“Himawari,” he says, surprised. “Why are you here?”

He looks at her with a slight suspicion; does he think that Himawari had something bad on her mind or is he just worried?

She doesn’t want to reply to his question; she thinks it wouldn’t be right.

Of course, Shikamaru-san is mom and dad’s friend, and he’s a good person—as dad says and as Himawari sees; but she still somehow understands that he doesn’t need to know the truth.

He probably wouldn’t approve of Himawari talking with Hidan; he’s a ‘bad company’, as the adults say. Though she doesn’t think Hidan is bad. After spending so much time trapped underground, anyone would’ve become angry at the whole world.

So Himawari lies that she was simply walking and somehow got lost—and met these very cute deer.

The deer are cute, though a bit strange—they didn’t allow her to go further; but they didn’t harm her and even let her pet them.

“I see,” Shikamaru says, his eyes softening a little. “You shouldn’t be walking here, Himawari. At least not alone. Alright?”

Himawari nods.

She has nothing to say, and he won’t listen to her anyway. She’ll have to sneak here again later. She promised to help Hidan—and she can’t just leave him.

“Come, I’ll walk you home,” Shikamaru holds out his hand, and Himawari reluctantly accepts it.

When they leave the forest, Himawari looks back; she thinks that the deer are looking right at her, as if they know why she came.

These intent gazes make her uneasy again—even frightened a little.

***

“What the hell took you so long?” is the first thing that Hidan says when Himawari is back at the place of his... burial.

He recognizes her almost immediately—Himawari is happy he’s remembered her.

She feels guilty; indeed, it’s been so long, but she just couldn’t find a way through the barriers that Shikamaru had put up around here.

It seems like he really didn’t want someone to free Hidan.

To avoid suspicion, Himawari asked father to train her—it took a while, but eventually he found some time for her.

She couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent so much time with her.

Even though it seemed like it was easier for father to train with her than to talk; but she was still happy.

Fuinjutsu is a useful skill in itself that shouldn’t be neglected. And there was no other way Himawari could get to Hidan.

And she had to fulfill her promise, or else what kind of shinobi would she be if she failed to keep her word?

“Fuck, I thought I’d actually die by the time you finally come,” Hidan says angrily when she finally digs to the bottom and sees his head.

It really is just a head—there’s nothing below his neck, but Himawari notices other parts of the body in this pit: arms, legs and other... pieces.

And, unlike the head, they look pretty terrible—half-rotted, infested with maggots—it’s surprising that the head remains completely untouched. Though perhaps the reason is that the head is _alive_.

Himawari examines Hidan intently—he’s older than her, but still quite young. Maybe in his twenties, though she’s not that good at telling someone’s age just by looking at them. His face is all covered in dirt and dried blood, and his short matted hair is so dirty now that it’s nearly impossible to tell its color.

Meeting the intent and amused look of his magenta eyes, Himawari falters and looks away, embarrassed; she didn’t mean to stare at him like this. Hidan lets out a short laugh and speaks again.

“Fuck, it’s like ten more years passed, you sure were taking your time,” his displeasure is almost tangible, and Himawari really feels ashamed. “Your voice was kinda... younger before?”

“It hasn’t been ten years,” she says, “just five. Sorry I couldn’t free you faster, Hidan-san.”

“Five years,” Hidan chokes. “Five fucking years. When I told you I was in no hurry, I didn’t mean you could wait until the end of time!”

“I’m sorry,” Himawari repeats. “I couldn’t return here after the first time. At first the deer wouldn’t let me... and then Shikamaru-san spotted me. Later, he put up some sort of barrier here. I managed to pass unnoticed now... but it took me a lot of time to learn how.”

At least she hopes she was unnoticed; after all, father took her training seriously, so Himawari is quite confident in her skills; but Shikamaru—or whoever was responsible for that barrier—surely was much more experienced.

Though nobody has come to capture the intruder yet, so she remains hopeful.

“I knew that asshole wouldn’t leave me in peace,” Hidan hisses. “Well, since you’ve dug me up—thanks, by the way—why don’t you get my body together so that I can finally get out of here?”

Himawari looks over his remains—for lack of better word—thoughtfully. No, she won’t be able to do much about it.

“I don’t think I can, your body... Well, it’s not in very good condition.”

Hidan squints, trying to see something for himself, and bursts into another round of curses.

Himawari understands him, but she can’t help. Even if she knew how to use medical techniques, bringing the body parts to normal and then putting them together... She wouldn’t be able to. Only Sakura-san or Tsunade-sama would have been able to pull this off, but Himawari knows that she can’t tell anyone she’s helping Hidan.

She hasn’t even told Boruto, despite having always shared all her secrets with him.

But even though she hasn’t found out much in the past years, she still knew Hidan was buried alive for a reason.

Hidan used to be—it seems to have been a very long time ago—a part of a criminal organization of sorts that tried to take over the world or destroy it.

And what Himawari’s doing probably isn’t _right_ , but leaving him underground seems like a much worse thing.

“Let me get you out of here,” she says.

Hidan, obviously, doesn’t mind—he’s glad, even though he keeps cursing because of his body.

Well, he’s at least alive, Himawari thinks. Most people in his place would have died.

How did he even survive?

Hidan grimaces when she pulls him out of the pit by the hair (‘same shit every time, can’t you people be careful?’) and answers her question simply, “I’m immortal.”

“But it’s not possible?” Himawari says in a questioning tone.

Hidan snorts loudly. “Everything is possible if you have Jashin-sama’s blessing.”

Himawari remembers him mentioning this name when she first met—or, more accurately, hear—him.

“Who is Jashin-sama?” she asks again.

“A god,” Hidan responds. And then he adds, apparently noticing the flash of curiosity in her eyes, “I’ll tell you more once we’re out of here.”

Himawari doesn’t mind—she also feels uncomfortable in this forest.

***

Himawari spends quite a while trying to figure out how to hide Hidan; the house is definitely not an option, her parents will instantly sense a stranger’s presence, even if at the moment Hidan is just a head separated from the body.

It’s still so strange—he _has_ to be dead, but he’s alive and very talkative; must have missed human company during his time underground.

Hidan seems to notice her nervousness and laughs at her—but somehow it doesn’t feel offensive in the slightest. Himawari even jokes back at him, though not for long—she shouldn’t get distracted now.

Nobody will be home until evening; father is busy as always, mom is visiting grandfather and aunt Hanabi, Boruto mentioned something about a training session. So first, Himawari decides to go home—and then come up with a better option. After all, wandering around Konoha with a severed head in her hands would be just stupid.

The first things Himawari does is wash Hidan’s head, listening to his endless cursing—he somehow manages to never repeat himself. She laughs; she hasn’t felt such lightness in a long while. She has a feeling that she’s done something wrong by freeing Hidan; but it also makes her happy, because for the first time Himawari has done something important. _On her own_.

And maybe it’s not such a good thing; but is it bad to help people? Hidan’s god would definitely approve of it, if she’s to believe his words.

And she does.

“You fucking love to torture me,” Hidan says, annoyed, while she carefully dries his hair with a fluffy towel.

She can see now that his hair is a beautiful shade of silver—not gray, though it could seem so from a distance. Himawari catches herself thinking that Hidan is handsome; it’s awkward at first, but then she just shrugs it off.

There’s nothing wrong with appreciating someone’s beauty—she does notice mom and dad’s good looks, as well as her brother and her friends.

“I’m not doing anything like that,” she objects, brushes still damp strands of hair away from his forehead and steps back a little, admiring her work.

If not for the fact that he has no body, Hidan would look perfect—and Himawari can’t help but giggle.

“Fuck,” Hidan drawls but then smirks. “Alright, kid, let’s say you’ve fixed me up a little. Now what?”

“What do you suggest, Hidan-san?” Himawari still hasn’t come to a decision. She needs some secluded place—but at the same time a comfortable one; after so many years underground, Hidan deserves something better.

“No idea, you got me out, now think of something,” he laughs. “And drop the ‘-san’, it’s hella annoying.”

“Okay,” Himawari nods.

This request is easy to oblige—unlike the first one. No matter how hard she thinks, she can’t think of a good idea—or any, for that matter.

She needs a place where nobody will try to look for Hidan; a place she could guard with the barriers her dad had taught her, which wouldn’t the best defense but better than nothing. But the problem is that she doesn’t know any such place; there are abandoned training grounds Boruto sometimes took her to, but it’s an open place; there’s no way to hide a head there, and it wouldn’t be exactly comfortable for Hidan.

Unless...

Himawari jerks her head up, remembering—there are a couple abandoned houses in the outskirts of the village. They’re still in a good condition, but no one lives there—at least not when she last was there. And she’ll be able to set the barriers around the house. It should work.

It’s worth trying, she decides and looks back at Hidan.

He immediately understands she’s got an idea; and grins.

“I knew you were a smart girl.”

Himawari smiles back and carefully picks up his head—this time Hidan doesn’t complain.

And though she can’t fully explain to herself why she’s helping him, she knows that she’ll do whatever she can for Hidan.

After all, she made a promise—and promises must be kept.

Even if she doesn’t know how yet.

***

“Where have you been?” Boruto asks, curious. “Just got your headband and ran off, didn’t even say anything. What’s gotten into you?”

Himawari shrugs a little; she’s spent the day talking with Hidan, talking about different things. About Jashin, mostly, like almost always, but surprisingly, she doesn’t get bored at all.

Mostly because Hidan is a great storyteller, and it’s obvious that he truly believes in his god. And, well, it’s hard to deny his existence—if it was a lie, Hidan wouldn’t be alive, breaking all laws of nature.

Hidan, it seems, wants to convince her to convert, but Himawari resorts to just listening and remembering for now. She has never taken religion seriously, and though Hidan is slowly changing her perspective, she’s not ready to _accept_ his faith yet. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever be—killing and sacrificing people isn’t exactly her thing.

But there’s no harm in learning more.

Himawari shakes her head, realizing Boruto is still waiting for her reply, and says quickly,

“I was training. Alone. At the training ground we used to train before, remember?”

Boruto narrows his eyes slightly, giving her a suspicious look, but Himawari puts on the most cheerful and innocent of her smiles, and he nods.

“Alright then,” he mutters, “but you could have at least warned me! Dad’s been looking for you. You left in the morning, Hima, and it’s almost night now!”

“Sorry,” Himawari lowers her head. “I didn’t think about it. I wanted to be alone.”

“What a strange way to celebrate becoming a true shinobi,” Boruto chuckles and pats her shoulder lightly. “Well, let’s go home?”

They only manage to walk a few steps when Himawari suddenly senses someone’s presence nearby. She’s not the best sensor, but thanks to the Hyuuga blood she’s more sensitive and aware than most; and she turns back. Boruto, puzzled, follows her gaze and freezes.

In front of them there’s a tall man in a dark cloak with a hood—he just stands there, not approaching them, but he looks... strange and even somewhat frightening.

Himawari doesn’t know him—and can’t imagine what he wants.

“Who are you?” Boruto asks sharply, stepping forward and shielding Himawari with his body.

Himawari wants to argue that she doesn’t need protection, she can handle herself in a fight; but Boruto is determined, and this stranger does seem dangerous, so she’s silent. She only grips her kunai tighter, ready to cover Boruto at any moment if it does come to a fight.

The man, however, doesn’t hurry to attack; only chuckles quietly, looking them over.

“You two look so much like him,” he says.

His voice, low and rough, doesn’t sound familiar, but there’s no hostility in his tone; so Himawari allows herself to relax a little, while still remaining wary.

“Who are you talking about? Our father?” Boruto asks suspiciously.

The stranger lowers his head, and the wind immediately throws off his hood, picks up and blows his long dark hair; and he curses quietly. Himawari squints, trying to make out his features and maybe recognize him, but the dim light of the street lamps doesn’t let her; and then he hides his face again. And looks for some reason not at Boruto who was talking to him, but at Himawari.

She can’t even guess what he’s thinking about—what he wants.

Suddenly he steps towards her, and Himawari flinches. Boruto almost rushes to attack—’don’t touch my sister!’—but is pushed aside, like a minor nuisance.

The man’s strangely cold fingers grab her chin firmly, forcing her to raise her head—and he examines her intently for a long while.

Himawari shudders but holds his gaze.

“You’re just like Naruto,” he finally concludes, chuckling again.

Despite this chuckle, Himawari still hears strange yearning in his voice.

And what was that ‘just like Naruto’? Usually it’s Boruto who’s always called the copy of their father, and he is so much alike him, inside and outside. Himawari resembles mother more. Why did this strange man say that—and how does he even know dad if she’s never met him?

The man lets go of her and ruffles her hair lightly; just like dad does, Himawari thinks for some reason.

“Will you give your father something from me?” he asks.

Himawari blinks. “Why can’t you?”

“I don’t think Naruto would want to see me.” And again there’s this bitterness in his voice.

Himawari remembers that Hidan sounded similar when talking about _old times_ —about his life in the Akatsuki and his, maybe, friends there, if one could call them that.

Maybe this man was father’s friend, and something happened between them? Himawari doesn’t know—she’ll have to ask dad. But it seems plausible; friendship ends sometimes.

After a moment of hesitation, she nods; if he’s an enemy and gives her something dangerous, something that’ll harm dad, she’ll see it right away.

It’s as if the man knew her answer—he immediately holds out his hand, and something light and cool falls into Himawari’s open palm.

She looks at it and then back at the man.

“A ring?”

“He’ll understand.”

Himawari shrugs. On the first glance, there’s nothing special in the ring, and she doesn’t sense any danger.

“I’ll give it to him,” she says, putting the ring in her pocket.

The man nods.

“One more thing,” and before Himawari can react, he puts something heavy and metallic into her hand. “That’s for you.”

Himawari brings the gift to her eyes and freezes, confused.

An amulet on a long chain.

The symbol of Jashin—the very god Hidan believes in, he told her what it looked like and even made her draw it.

“Why?..” Himawari looks at the stranger again, but even when they are so close, the dark hides his features—she only sees that he seems to be smiling.

“Tell Hidan I said hello,” the only reply she gets, a quiet whisper so that only she can hear.

And then he disappears—jumps onto the nearest roof and fades from view completely.

Himawari exchanges glances with Boruto—he seems to be just as confused.

What’s going on—how does this man know father; how does he know Hidan? Why did he give her the symbol of faith—is he connected to Jashin somehow, maybe, also a priest like Hidan? Then why didn’t he help Hidan himself? How could he know that Himawari had saved him?

So many questions and no answers.

_Himawari remembers that picture in father’s desk._

_Did the man in it have long hair, too?_

***

“So, you were training,” Naruto repeats.

Himawari nods guiltily, tries not to look him in the eye, and he smiles at this childish gesture.

“Next time warn me when you’re going to disappear for so long,” he says, not hiding his relief.

Honestly, spending the whole day god knows where... Training is important, of course, but not like that; at least Boruto found her quickly.

And what matters most is that she’s alright.

Naruto isn’t angry—after all, at their age he’s never listened to any rules—but he’s worried.

“By the way, dad,” Himawari says, “we’ve met your friend.”

Naruto blinks, confused.

“My... friend? Who exactly do you mean?” he asks, while hastily remembering all his friends who Himawari doesn’t know.

She doesn’t see Sasuke frequently but would definitely recognize him; all the others who Naruto could call his friends, lived in Konoha.

Though... perhaps, Gaara? Himawari had seen him in the photos, but not in person. But no, if he arrived in Konoha, it would be only because he needed to discuss some matters with Naruto, and he would be at his place by now. So it’s not the case. The same could be said about Kankuro, and his other acquaintances from different villages; if someone of them wanted to see Naruto, they would have gone straight to him.

Who, then?

“He didn’t give a name. Well... he’s tall,” Himawari begins slowly. “Taller than you. I didn’t have a good look on his face, it was dark and he had a hood on. Though... he had long dark hair,” she adds in a while.

Naruto’s heart shrinks with a strange feeling—what is he even thinking about? He doesn’t know who Himawari is talking about.

He can’t know.

As if there aren’t many tall, dark-haired men.

What am I thinking, he repeats to himself.

Himawari suddenly looks at Naruto—so intently.

“What is it?” he asks. “Remember anything else?”

“He told me to give you this,” Himawari fumbles in her pocket, takes out something and hands it to Naruto.

On her open palm he sees a massive white ring with a kanji which says ‘north’.

Naruto feels as though he’s been struck by a lightning.

It can’t be, it can’t be.

Slowly, as if in a dream, Naruto takes the ring from her, squeezes it tightly—it’s cold and smooth, with small scratches he feels beneath his fingers.

He stares at the ring—and it’s the same as he remembers; he was studying it curiously then, surprised that he was allowed to.

And he joked, ‘you have to propose to me after all that’s happened between us; and you don’t even need to buy the ring!’

Naruto grits his teeth and closes his eyes; _don’t think, don’t think, idiot, forget it_.

The damn ring doesn’t disappear—a message from the past, a reply to the old dumb joke, and Naruto feels such strange emptiness in his chest.

It can’t be.

The dead don’t just come alive.

“He also gave Hima-chan some trinket,” Boruto suddenly says, and Naruto raises his head, returning to reality.

Himawari flushes and presses her hand to her chest.

“So what? It’s just a necklace, nothing more.”

Naruto raises his hand up, trying to calm her—and to appear unfazed.

“I won’t take it away, Himawari, just show me what exactly my... friend gave you.”

Himawari silently pulls a thin metal chain from under her t-shirt, on which the amulet is hanging—an inverted triangle inside a circle.

It seems familiar for some reason, but Naruto can’t recall where he saw it before. But he senses no danger from it, nothing—it really is just a simple trinket, though quite pretty, even though Naruto doesn’t know much about jewelry.

Why would _he_ give it to Himawari—why bother giving her anything?

There’s stubbornness and slight fear in Himawari’s eyes, as though she’s afraid Naruto will take the amulet away; but he’s not going to.

“You can keep it,” he says, and adds after a while—he almost forgot the most important thing, “And congratulations on graduating the Academy successfully,” and he ruffles her short hair, making her blush and smile widely—it’s nice, because she’s been too serious lately.

Boruto sulks a little, noticing that father isn’t paying attention to him, and Naruto laughs and pulls him closer—hugs them both tightly. They don’t spend much time together, and he really needs to fix that.

But even his family’s closeness doesn’t really calm him—the anxiety still doesn’t leave.

It’s a coincidence, it doesn’t mean anything.

He can’t be alive.

***

Even before opening his eyes, Naruto knows where he is, and his lips twist into a bitter smile; his memory is definitely playing tricks on him.

It seems that he’ll have to relive that day once more.

But as he looks around, Naruto notices something weird: he’s all by himself—Kakashi-sensei, Yamato, Ino—they aren’t here.

And the man standing in front of him looks different.

Not like he’s going to kill him.

“Uzumaki Naruto,” he says with a grin, which is so painfully familiar. “This time I’ll not lose to you.”

And he does not, blocking all his attacks with ease and throwing him to the ground; Naruto doesn’t know why, perhaps because it’s a dream, perhaps because he never wanted to win in the first place. Even if _in reality_ he had to.

Instead of striking the final blow, he sits down next to Naruto, takes his hands into his own—unnaturally cold.

And just like before, his touch makes shiver run through the body—Naruto inhales sharply through clenched teeth, not attempting to move away, though. It’s meaningless in a dream, so why not enjoy the moment.

Which will never happen in reality again.

“Won’t even say anything?” Kakuzu asks softly.

Naruto doesn’t know what to say—should he? He’s dreaming. Nothing will change, no matter what he says.

Kakuzu shakes his head, gripping his hands a little tighter, and this simple gesture makes Naruto’s insides twist—he’s _remembering_ again, even though he thought he’d forgotten, but it’s impossible to forget; _he’s_ impossible to forget.

“There’s a lot I’d like to tell you,” Kakuzu continues. “But I don’t think you’d want to listen to me.”

Naruto looks at him, desperate, and breathes out, “I’m sorry.”

And he hates himself for the way his voice breaks; there’s no reason for it, he has nothing to apologize for.

But guilt doesn’t listen to reason.

“We both were wrong about something.”

Kakuzu lets go of his hands for a moment; and Naruto watches in surprise as he puts his ring on his finger.

Naruto doesn’t manage to stifle a nervous laugh; back then, he wasn’t impressed by this joke, and now he continues it.

“What would you answer now?” Kakuzu looks at him, strangely serious, brings Naruto’s hand to his lips, leaving a light kiss on the skin; and this gesture is so painfully familiar, too.

Though this pain is also pleasant—it’s what Naruto never wanted to forget.

_Never wanted to lose._

“You know,” Naruto smiles, but it comes out forced. “Same as then. My answer will always be the same—if you ask the right question.”

_But you never asked—maybe because you found it stupid._

Kakuzu is silent for a long while before finally speaking again.

“It could have been different,” echoing Naruto’s own thoughts.

But it is the way it is.

The past can’t be changed.

When Naruto wakes up, right above his wedding ring he sees another—the one with ‘north’ on it, and at first he doesn’t even understand how it’s possible; he didn’t put it on, he threw it somewhere on his desk yesterday.

It seems crazy—it was nothing but a dream.

And he’s never sleepwalked or anything like that.

At first Naruto wants to throw away this ‘gift’, but something stops him.

Must be his foolish sentimentality—foolish memories that came back to haunt him despite him trying so hard to erase them.

He runs his fingers along the smooth surface of the ring, pausing at the kanji, and laughs quietly. Many years ago—wasn’t this what he wanted?

_And there you go._

That’s madness.

Naruto covers his face with his hands, closes his eyes—as though if he pretends that nothing is going on, everything will disappear, become a dream, an illusion, a hallucination—anything but reality.

***

“He said hello, huh,” Hidan repeats and grins wryly. “What an asshole.”

“So you know that man?” Himawari asks.

The way Hidan reacted at her story was quite strange, as if he’s heard something completely unbelievable—and yes, what happened really wasn’t a usual thing, but it had to have some explanation.

“I do... did,” he replies slowly. “I thought he was dead—but it turns out he’s not.”

Himawari thinks that Hidan isn’t telling her everything, but she isn’t going to pry. She has no right to ask to know his secrets, even if she wants to know more about him and his past.

Instead of continuing what seems to be an unpleasant topic for him, she takes off the amulet she’s been given, show it to Hidan—and his eyes widen.

“What the...”

“That’s Jashin’s symbol, isn’t it?” Himawari asks, despite knowing the answer.

“Yes... where’d you get it?” Hidan seems almost shocked.

Himawari shrugs. “He gave it to me.”

“And where could he...” Hidan closes his eyes. “What the hell is going on.”

Himawari doesn’t reply—doesn’t really know what to say. She understands even less than Hidan, and definitely doesn’t have the slightest clue where that man got the amulet from, how he knows Hidan, how he’s connected to her father—and who he is.

Being in the dark is annoying, but there’s little to nothing she can do.

“You know what, kid,” Hidan says suddenly, and the sound of his voice makes her look at him. “I can’t wear it anyway, so you can have it. I think you’re worthy of it.”

Himawari lowers her gaze, adjusting the necklace.

She was hoping that Hidan would say something like this.

“Just don’t think that it’ll make you immortal right away,” Hidan warns. “You’re not even a believer.”

“I didn’t think that,” Himawari laughs quietly. “And what does it take to become immortal, then? I doubt anyone can just convert to your faith and live forever. Otherwise there’d be a queue of people waiting to do just that.”

It really is surprising, with such benefits that Jashin’s religion offers, this god doesn’t have much followers—only Hidan, to be exact; even if there are others, he doesn’t know about them.

Of course, not everyone would like regular bloody sacrifices—but for shinobi, murder is supposed to be a trivial thing.

Hidan laughs, as if she said something stupid.

“Of course, everyone wants to be immortal! But not everyone is granted with such honor. To receive this gift, you have to serve Jashin-sama for a long time—and your faith must be strong. It’s not just about sacrifices—or it’d be too easy.”

“I see,” Himawari says. “Do you think I could become immortal, Hidan? Not right now, of course. I mean—eventually, someday.”

“If you _believe_ —and dedicate your life to Jashin-sama,” he looks at her seriously. “It’s not as simple as it sounds.”

Himawari nods—there’s sense in it, why would anyone just give away such power; you have to earn it.

She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly thinking about it—she wasn’t going to convert, at least not in the nearest future, but now... Perhaps it’s about this amulet—a simple necklace seems to have made everything more real, unlike the stories—which are fun, but not supported by anything.

Now everything is real—Himawari _believes_ that Jashin really exists, that it’s not just an incredibly powerful jutsu that keeps Hidan alive.


	2. Chapter 2

For the umpteenth time Naruto stays to work late, forgetting about time—and maybe forgetting that he should go home, spend at least one evening not sorting through endless pile of papers, but with his family.

Especially with his children; he can’t help but feel them distancing from him more and more each day. Mostly Boruto, of course—who’s angry that he’s almost never there, and Naruto can’t blame him for it. But he can’t change the situation either, preferring to run away from problems, making the usual excuses—he’s busy, he’s got so many things to take care of. And it’s so obvious that his already strained relationship with his son keeps getting worse.

Himawari... She does nothing of the kind—doesn’t start fights or lash out at him, but she’s becoming more distant, doesn’t share anything with him—like she used to. She’s got some secrets of her own, and there’s nothing surprising; like any teenager, she needs something that would belong only to her. But still, her behavior is unusual—and feels wrong.

And yet again, Naruto does nothing.

He waits for everything to get better on its own—or for Hinata to fix it. She always did.

And he was never there.

Naruto feels sick with himself, his cowardice.

He promises himself that next time he’ll do better, do everything right.

And knows that the next time, and the time after that, everything will stay the same.

Naruto straightens in his seat and looks at the clock. He’ll work a little more and then go home.

When Naruto reaches for another folder, a strange feeling surges through him, forcing him to freeze. There’s someone near—heading towards him.

Who could need him at this hour? Naruto can’t recognize this chakra, but it seems somewhat familiar. One thing is certain—whoever this is, they have no hostile intentions, but he still has to be cautious. Naruto prepares to deflect the blow or to attack himself; but when the window opens, and someone dressed in a cloak jumps down on the floor, he can’t move.

“Naruto,” his visitor says, and Naruto recognizes this voice—he can’t not to.

But it’s... impossible.

“Kakuzu?” Naruto asks in a suddenly hoarse voice.

Instead of answering, he throws back his hood, revealing his face—which hasn’t changed after all these years—and Naruto thinks he’s hallucinating, because it just _can’t be_.

But as he looks closer, he notices the cracks on his skin, black scleras—distinct characteristics of Edo Tensei.

It doesn’t explain much about what’s happening but at least makes it less impossible. He didn’t survive—he simply was resurrected.

 _Simply_ ; how nonsensical this sounds.

Kakuzu grins slightly, catching his gaze—and Naruto feels a shiver run through him, but not because of fear.

“Are you not happy to see me?” he asks, coming to the table and stopping right across.

Naruto shifts nervously, almost shrinking back in his chair—he doesn’t know how to react and whether to believe this at all.

He inhales deeply, trying to calm down.

“What... how did you...” his voice breaks, no matter how hard he tries to control himself. “ _What_ are you doing here?”

“Came to see an old _friend_ ,” this word sounds outright mocking.

“You’re dead.” Naruto just doesn’t understand what’s going on.

“As you can see,” Kakuzu agrees. “But it doesn’t bother me much.”

Indeed, it doesn’t, and if Naruto doesn’t look too closely, it might even seem like he never died at all.

As if all these years never happened, as if everything was the same.

Naruto still doesn’t know what to say, what to do—when Kakuzu suddenly reaches out, covering his hand with his own, he only blinks, confused.

Kakuzu’s hand is strangely cold, sending an unpleasant chill through his whole body, but Naruto can’t bring himself to move away.

It’s so stupid—and pointless.

Kakuzu says nothing, only stares at him, and the look in his eyes makes everything even more confusing.

He notices his ring on Naruto’s hand and smiles, just barely, and it’s a mix between happy and sad.

Seeing this smile, Naruto thinks that maybe it’s good he didn’t take off the ring.

He takes another deep breath.

“It was you who... spoke with Himawari and Boruto?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“You have nice kids,” Kakuzu notes, lightly stroking his hand, and Naruto grits his teeth. “Though Boruto... seriously? What a lack of imagination.”

“If I needed your advice on how to name my son, I would’ve asked,” Naruto snaps weakly—he’s not actually mad, just confused and has no idea what to feel.

“You’re right,” Kakuzu doesn’t even try to argue.

As though he doesn’t care, and this is nothing more than an awkward attempt to strike up a meaningless conversation.

To be honest, Naruto never understood what he thinks about and what guides his actions.

And Kakuzu has always read him like an open book.

“Why are you here?” Naruto finds the strength to look him straight in the eye.

Kakuzu says nothing again; instead, he leans over the table and grabs Naruto in a firm embrace.

He feels as though he’s dived into cold water—Naruto shudders from the cold, and it’s not even _that_ cold, but the contrast makes it seem like he’s going to freeze any moment now.

Kakuzu holds him as if it’s the last time; and who knows, maybe it is—maybe it’s a late goodbye.

Back then they didn’t have a chance to say anything to each other.

He’s so close, and Naruto feels weak yet clear scent of smoke and damp earth—but maybe he’s just _imagining_ it. Though it’s fitting.

Maybe that’s what death smells like.

And the past they shared—their feelings—everything that’s burned long ago.

_Should have burned._

“You’re still such an idiot, Naruto,” Kakuzu says.

Naruto closes his eyes, silently agreeing; of course he is, he’s a total fool—if he were smart, he would have attacked immediately instead of talking.

But Naruto _doesn’t want to_ kill him again.

To lose him again.

“It’s all a dream,” he says quietly. “I’m just dreaming you.”

Kakuzu chuckles, still holding him; it’s so strange, feeling him so close, sensing the dead cold radiating from his body. Naruto wants him to leave and doesn’t at the same time.

Because he doesn’t need to be reminded of the past, of all those mistakes.

But he still needs Kakuzu to be near, and this conflict doesn’t let him focus—his thoughts are a complete mess.

“Are you sure?” Kakuzu moves closer, lips almost touching his cheek, and his breath is barely tangible—and also cold. “Perhaps it’s _me_ dreaming you?”

Naruto blinks.

In the next second, he wakes up.

At the same place he was—at the desk in his office, all alone.

His muscles ache, stiff from sleeping in an uncomfortable position, his head is heavy; Naruto leans back in his chair, trying to understand what just happened.

It would be so easy to call it a dream and leave it at that; if not for the strange feeling that everything was real.

There’s no reason to think that—hell, it was just a dream, perhaps vivid and realistic, but _a dream_.

Naruto notices that the window is open, and the papers are scattered on the floor, but convinces himself that he just forgot how he opened the window. Kakuzu couldn’t really have been here—damn it, he died a long time ago. If someone resurrected him—again—why would he come to Naruto?

Just to see him, Naruto thinks bitterly.

He lowers his head and presses his hands to his temples. No, so far the most logical explanation seems to be that he’s just gone crazy.

***

When Himawari comes to visit Hidan after a week’s absence, he looks visibly annoyed.

“Where have you been?” he greets her, and there’s a hint of resentment in his voice.

Himawari smiles—Hidan can be so funny sometimes, cute, even, though she’s not going to say it out loud.

“My team had a mission. The first one outside of Konoha, can you imagine?” She sits cross-legged on the floor and looks into his eyes, still smiling.

“Great,” Hidan says.

He’s not impressed at all, but Himawari is used to it.

“Won’t even ask me how it went?” she asks.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“I’ll tell you anyway,” Himawari laughs. “Pretty boring, to be honest. We were just escorting a man. Didn’t even fight anyone.”

Not that Himawari actually wanted to fight; but she expected something more from her first relatively important assignment.

Once, father told her about his first serious mission, and Himawari listened in awe, hoping that one day she would experience a similar adventure.

Well, it’s probably not the time for that yet, she thinks.

But it will come.

“What a shitty mission,” Hidan says; Himawari notices that he’s a little happier.

It’s comforting—to be honest, she understands him.

His condition is quite unenviable on its own; as he said once, staring at the wall is the only entertainment he’s got; and Himawari, his only company, has left for such a long time.

But what can she do—she already visits him almost every day, not caring about raising suspicions; she can’t refuse missions, she’s a shinobi after all.

Their conversation—or, rather, awkward silence—is interrupted by a sudden sound of someone’s footsteps. She glances back, hoping it was just her imagination, but whoever it is keeps walking—towards them.

But how could anyone get into the house? Himawari’s barriers aren’t perfect, but they’re quite strong, and her alarm system should have worked; how could this happen?

A fearful guess comes suddenly—what if it’s father? To him, her barriers would pose no obstacle, and he could easily track her if he wanted to know where she was disappearing to.

In that case... it’s pretty bad.

“Hello, problems,” Hidan grimaces. “What do we do?”

Staying here and waiting would be extremely stupid; the only thing she can do is to find out who came here.

“I’ll check who’s there,” Himawari says. “Stay quiet, or they’ll hear.”

“I know,” Hidan snorts, and she smiles.

Himawari sees the intruder as soon as she exits the room.

She raises her head and freezes, recognizing him—that man again.

Is he stalking her or what?

Himawari takes a step back—not that she’s afraid, but still a little uneasy. Why did he come again—how did he manage to get through the barriers? How did he even know where they were?

The man is silent for a while, studying her intently, and Himawari feels uncomfortable under this gaze. She doesn’t know what to do—whether she should prepare to defend herself or he doesn’t want to harm her.

“Where’s Hidan?” he finally asks.

“What... What do you want from him?” Himawari manages to say; her throat suddenly feels dry.

“To talk,” something in his eyes suggests that the conversation won’t be exactly friendly.

Himawari doesn’t want to let him in but understands that she won’t be able to stop him if he decides to come in by force; and so she nods, gesturing him to follow her.

“Who the hell was that—” Hidan begins, irritated, but trails off once he sees their unwanted guest.

He looks ass though he saw a ghost or something equally unbelievable. The stranger doesn’t seem even one bit happy about their meeting; why only was he so eager to see him?

“Fuck,” Hidan finally manages. “Fuck, you’re... really alive. Fuck.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the man says, frowning. “I see you’re feeling great, too.”

“Aside from the fact that I’m just a useless talking head right now—yes, fucking great. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a real asshole, Kakuzu?” Hidan snaps.

“You have,” he frowns more.

Himawari watches them, confused—so they do know each other. What nonsense, beginning the conversation with insults.

“Ain’t happy to see me, partner,” Hidan grins, and it seems like Kakuzu is barely holding back. Partner—he must be from that organization. “Let me guess, you’d much rather see Uzumaki than me.”

Himawari thinks he must mean father—but what does he have to do with all this?

The air in the room seems to become colder, but perhaps it’s just her imagination.

“I have a few questions for you,” Kakuzu says. “In private.”

“Ask Hima-chan,” Hidan says casually—he probably would’ve shrugged if he could. “As you see, I can’t kick her out or come with you.”

Kakuzu turns to Himawari.

“You’ll wait outside.”

Himawari shakes her head—she’s not going to leave Hidan with him, if anything happens, he won’t even be able to protect himself.

“It wasn’t a question,” his voice lowers dangerously, and Himawari shudders.

She looks helplessly at Hidan, but he doesn’t seem frightened or concerned—only surprised and somewhat sad, though she isn’t sure why the latter.

Sighing, she nods—it seems like she has no choice—and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

She actually wants to eavesdrop on their conversation but decides not to—if it’s something personal, she probably doesn’t need to know; even though she’s curious.

She can only hope that they finish quickly.

About an hour passes—or at least feels like it—and Himawari is tired of the waiting; she’s got nothing to occupy herself with.

Even though she tried not to listen, she still heard some parts of their conversation—at some point Hidan was almost shouting. It didn’t clear up much, though.

_‘You ungrateful heathen—you should appreciate Jashin-sama’s grace!’_

_‘How is it **my** fault? **I** didn’t kill you!’_

_‘I don’t give a fuck what you’re gonna do about it!’_

Himawari can’t seem to wrap her head around all this. So Hidan’s god has something to do with what’s happening? She has some guesses but can’t form them into something meaningful for now.

Slowly, she comes up to the door—and as she’s about to touch the doorknob, she hears their voices, quiet but audible now that she’s so close.

“You know, I... hell, I’ve missed you.” Hidan’s voice breaks strangely at the end, and Himawari isn’t sure why.

“Can’t say the same.” Kakuzu, on the contrary, sounds indifferent. “But I suppose I should thank you for this.”

Hidan’s laugh is hoarse and strained.

“Asshole. I hate you.”

“So do I,” this time, Kakuzu lets out a quiet chuckle.

Himawari frowns, trying to arrange all little information she’s managed to learn into a coherent story. From what she understood, this Kakuzu used to be Hidan’s partner in the Akatsuki—but also somehow knew her father, and it seemed like they were... friends way back? At the very least, Kakuzu spoke about Naruto warmly; however strange it was.

Still, a lot was unclear. And it didn’t seem like she was going to find out more for now.

“Are you done?” she asks, looking into the room.

For some reason she doesn’t want to let them speak any longer—doesn’t want to remain in the dark any longer.

Kakuzu looks at her, then back at Hidan and shrugs.

“I think so,” he says. “There’s nothing more to discuss.”

Hidan is silent, staring at him, and it almost feels like he wouldn’t hesitate to attack—if he had a body. His anger is almost tangible in the air, and Himawari feels a bit uncomfortable.

Only now she realizes that there’s a truly dangerous man hiding behind this cheerful mask, who simply doesn’t have the opportunity to harm someone—but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t _want_ to.

If he weren’t so helpless, would he still be so friendly with Himawari?

Trying to fill this awkward silence somehow, Himawari asks, “Where will you go?” Though she doesn’t care much; and if he’s found a hideout for himself, he probably won’t tell her anyway.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Kakuzu walks to the door, calmly pushing Himawari aside; she steps back, closer to Hidan.

“You know, I’d kill your Uzumaki,” Hidan says suddenly, smiling—though this smile is more like a grotesque grimace. “I’d tear him to pieces, slowly, make him suffer—make him _feel_ all the pain,” and he laughs, almost insanely.

Himawari shudders—Hidan is speaking about father again, but why does he hate him so much, why does he want to kill him? What had he done?  
She wants to ask Hidan, to try and calm him, but Kakuzu doesn’t let her even open her mouth.

He says, annoyed but also somewhat amused, “You don’t even have a body now. What can you possibly do?”

“Fuck,” Hidan chokes on air. “You!.. I fucking hate you!” and again his voice breaks, this weird emotion in it. “Just—just fucking die!”

He falls silent, breathing heavily; and Himawari can’t find the words.

She doesn’t understand what’s going on—why would Hidan react like this?

“I will soon, don’t worry,” Kakuzu smiles wryly. “And... thank you.” Despite his words, there’s no sincerity in his voice.

Hidan doesn’t respond. He remains silent even when Kakuzu leaves their little hideout, doesn’t look at Himawari.

“Are you okay?” Himawari asks carefully, leaning down to look into his eyes.

He frowns, bites his lips—it seems like he wants to turn away but can’t. With a sigh, Himawari reaches out and gently strokes his cheek—he tenses, but she still doesn’t remove her hand.

After a while, Hidan relaxes a little—at least he doesn’t look like he wants to kill everyone anymore.

“Why do you hate my dad so much?” Himawari watches him intently, seeing anger flash in his eyes again.

“I have a shitload of reasons,” he spits. “Where do I even start?”

“Wherever you want,” Himawari says quietly. “Whatever is easier for you.”

Hidan rolls his eyes, lets out a bitter laugh—and says nothing.

But Himawari thinks she kind of understands already.

And this understanding hurts for some reason.

***

“How was your first mission, Himawari?” Naruto asks, just to break this weighing silence, so common for the rare moments when they gather at the table together.

Himawari just shrugs indifferently, doesn’t look up and just keeps poking at her plate. Then, she mutters only, ‘fine’. Naruto helplessly glances at Boruto, but he turns away, clearly not wanting to participate in the conversation.

It’s a normal behavior for them, but Naruto still doesn’t understand when it had become like this. What was the reason—his constant absence or something else?

“I’ll go,” Himawari pushes aside her almost full plate and gets up from the table. “I need to practice before my next mission.”

Hinata looks at her sadly but still nods.

“Oh, right!” Boruto jumps up after her. “I told Sarada I’d train with her today!”

It sounds like he’s only just made this up, but neither Naruto nor Hinata stop him.

Boruto and Himawari practically rush out of the room, and Naruto wants to say something—but no word comes to mind. His own children don’t want to talk to him—or Hinata, trying to spend as much time out of home as possible.

“They’re just... at a difficult age,” Hinata says as if reading his thoughts. “Don’t worry, it’ll get better.”

She doesn’t look Naruto in the eye—instead her gaze is focused on his hands. Naruto knows without asking what caught her attention; Kakuzu’s ring he’s been wearing for a reason he himself doesn’t fully understand.

Is it simple nostalgia or his old feelings are still alive... why can’t he just forget about everything?

Naruto still says for some reason, and it sounds like a pathetic excuse,

“He’s long dead.” Hinata blinks in confusion, and he explains, “The man this ring belonged to.”

There’s pain in Hinata’s eyes, carefully hidden but still visible, and _understanding_ , even if she doesn’t know everything.

“I didn’t ask. You don’t have to tell me.” She turns away, but Naruto thinks he notices her eyes glistening.

He clutches his head, completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to do anymore.

He feels as though he’s driving himself into a trap, farther and farther with each day, each minute, until there’s no way out in sight.

“Are you okay, Naruto-kun?” Hinata asks, shifting closer—she touches his shoulder, forcing him to look at her.

She strokes his face gently—her hands are soft and warm, and Naruto always liked that—but not now. Now, he wants to feel the contrast, searing heat or piercing cold, and Hinata’s hands are neither hot enough nor cold enough.

A sickening feeling of guilt twists his insides, but Naruto finds the strength to smile and shake his head.

_Yes, Hinata, it’s okay._

_No, everything has turned upside down, and I don’t know what to do._

Hinata easily sees through his mask but says nothing.

She gives him the right to secrets, the right to lies, and still accepts him—Naruto doesn’t understand how she can remain so calm. He sees the pain in her eyes even more clearly, but he can’t possibly tell her... anything.

This past is too personal—it belongs only to him, even though he should let it go.

***

“You’re back,” Naruto doesn’t even make an effort to appear displeased or angry.

He can lie to anyone but himself—he’s glad that Kakuzu has come again, and it doesn’t matter that it might be another dream.

To be honest, Naruto wants— _hopes_ that this will somehow turn out to be real.

“And you’re still trying to understand whether you’re dreaming or not.” Kakuzu chuckles and sits on the bed next to him—close but keeping a certain distance.

And Naruto isn’t sure whether he himself wants to move away or gives this opportunity to him.

“Put yourself in my place,” Naruto forces a short laugh. “I die and then, many years later, come back to you like this.”

“I would be glad,” Kakuzu says simply. “Though I suppose if I were the one who killed you... it would be awkward.”

Naruto grits his teeth—it’s more than awkward. He feels ashamed, a little afraid—and it _hurts_.

“Still... it seems like a dream,” he repeats stubbornly. “That’s crazy. You’re dead. During the war you were resurrected with the rest of the Akatsuki, but then Edo Tensei was broken. You died again. How can you be here now?” Naruto’s voice breaks. “You’re not real.”

“Don’t pretend to be dumber than you are,” Kakuzu says, slightly irritated. “I’m quite real.”

“You don’t understand,” Naruto exhales desperately. “It’s so... unexpected! I had no idea you were alive.”

“I’m _not_ ,” he retorts. “Which should be easy to see.”

“It doesn’t matter! If you were resurrected again, then who did it? Orochimaru decided that he missed his old colleagues?” A hysterical laughter tears from his chest, and Naruto has to take a few deep breaths to calm down. “Or who? Why?”

Kakuzu shakes his head wearily, and Naruto for some reason feels like he _knows_ —but doesn’t want to tell him. Or perhaps he doesn’t know for certain but suspects something.

It’s possible. Naruto wouldn’t be surprised.

He thinks hardly anything could surprise him in this situation.

“I don’t know how I’m _almost_ alive again. Unlike the last time I was brought back by that technique, now I am not under anyone’s control.” He simply shrugs at Naruto’s confused glance.

And that’s not the worst explanation—Naruto thinks that maybe he doesn’t really care _how_. What matters to him now is that he’s here.

And that he’s here because he wants to be.

“Just tell me why you came,” Naruto says quietly.

_Why you make me doubt everything again—even my own thoughts._

“I...” Kakuzu suddenly stutters mid-sentence, so unlike him. Naruto stares at him, trying to read something in his eyes. “I must have just wanted to see you.”

“See... me,” Naruto repeats.

This, too, is unlike him.

Has Kakuzu _missed him?_ For some reason it fills his chest with a strange warm feeling.

Once Naruto would have given a lot, if not everything, to hear something like this.

Kakuzu shrugs, averting his gaze for a second, as if embarrassed. No wonder, since he wasn’t used to talking about his feelings. He’s always been like that. It was almost impossible to get a verbal expression of affection from him.

Though Naruto never cared that much for words.

“I’m more interested in something else,” Kakuzu says suddenly. “Why didn’t you kill me—now, I mean?”

“You think I could kill you?” Naruto asks in disbelief. “No, that I... would want to? Even when we fought, I _didn’t want_ to kill you!”

Naruto doesn’t understand why he would say something like this; and doesn’t want to think that perhaps it’s not surprising he would expect this after what happened.

Kakuzu looks at him silently for a while. Then he sighs and touches his shoulder briefly before immediately pulling back.

“I don’t know what I think,” he admits. “Why keep me alive? Akatsuki are no more, and I’m no use as a source of information. It would be easier for you if I wasn’t here—a reminder of the past you’ve long forgotten. Isn’t that so?”

“No! No, I...” Naruto bites his lip nervously, trying to stay calm, but his heart is pounding so wildly. “We... I’m so... I never forgot you.”

Kakuzu gives him a skeptical look.

“You didn’t? Is that why you married that girl? I have to admit, she’s good for you—as for me, I don’t think you’ve been mourning me for long.”

“Don’t say that!” Naruto snaps.

He feels anger rising up—because it’s not true, he really cared; what happened between them meant so much to him ( _everything_ ); because he never loved Hinata _like this_ , and her love could never erase the memories of the time he shared with Kakuzu.

_Because after that battle he couldn’t sleep for months, waking up from nightmares—in which he killed Kakuzu again and again._

_And, waking up, he kept hoping desperately to see him by his side, refusing to believe that it happened for real._

“Look, I really... why are you always making this difficult?” Naruto reaches out to touch his hair, runs his fingers through long soft strands. Kakuzu looks bewildered but stays in place, allowing him—and for some reason Naruto feels a shiver run through him.

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to touch him like this again.

He didn’t think he’d ever see him again.

“Yes, it’s all so stupid, but... you were... dear to me,” Naruto breaks the silence awkwardly. “Even though I... killed you.”

It’s so strange to say—‘killed you’—when he’s right in front of him, looking so _alive_.

Naruto feels so ashamed and guilty and broken now—even though there could have been no different outcome, and he had no choice but to fight or die—because Kakuzu definitely wouldn’t have spared him.

And he confirms Naruto’s thoughts, the corner of his mouth slightly twitching up as he covers his hand with his.

“It was fair. You were stronger then.” And he adds, “But if we’d fought one on one, you wouldn’t have beaten me so easily.”

Naruto isn’t sure but thinks that Kakuzu is right—no matter how strong Naruto was, he lacked experience at the time. He’d almost certainly have lost if Kakuzu hadn’t been weakened by his fight with Kakashi-sensei.

But this doesn’t make Naruto feel any better—if only worse.

It _wasn’t_ fair.

He can’t stand this understanding in Kakuzu’s slight smirk—it would be so much easier if he was blaming him, angry at him—it would be deserved.

Naruto takes a deep breath and leans forward, closing the distance between them; and, still careful, presses his lips against Kakuzu’s mouth in a light kiss.

And for a moment, it’s as if nothing had changed, and all the feelings overwhelm him again.

_Perhaps they never left._

“Naruto?” Kakuzu says half-questioningly, moving away a little—but Naruto doesn’t let him, pulls him closer instead.

“Please,” he exhales, “I’ve... missed you so much.”

He doesn’t remember about Hinata, about the fact that none of this should be happening, that it’s wrong—to be honest, he should have thought about this last thing many years ago.

But when has he ever thought about something before doing it?

“Idiot,” Kakuzu sighs quietly, touches his cheek; and Naruto closes his eyes.

_That’s right—never._

When Kakuzu finally kisses him for real, Naruto thinks that it’s everything he wanted, everything he’s been missing this entire time—just to feel him so close.

_God, he really is such an idiot._

Though it’s a little different now—Naruto is older and knows what he’s doing.

And Kakuzu hasn’t changed one bit; only his embrace is gentler but still so firm.

And just like then, Naruto gives in to him, wraps his arms around his shoulders, grabs his hair—and doesn’t want to think about anything except for the fact that they’re together again.

They practically fall on the bed, kissing hastily, avidly; and Naruto still notices the _wrongness_ —Kakuzu’s lips are too cold, just like his body, his hands that are touching him so carefully now.

But it doesn’t make this any less pleasant; Naruto nearly suffocates from the overwhelming sensations, and the only thing he thinks about is _please, don’t stop_. And it’s not so much about physical pleasure, but about just being so close—after all these years, it seems unreal.

Against all common sense, Naruto doesn’t care that he’s kissing and hugging a dead man; the way Edo Tensei imitates life is enough for him to _believe_.

_And if it is a dream, what difference does it really make?_

Naruto didn’t even think about it, but he really missed him _so much_ —really wanted to see him again.

He really... no, it’s better not to say it.

He’d rather focus on what’s going on now.

Something that bothers Naruto somewhat is his own inexperience; the last time he was with a man—with Kakuzu—was too long ago. Though he doesn’t leave him time to doubt or change his mind.

Not that Naruto would.

It’s slow and tender, and it’s almost torture—the way Kakuzu kisses him lightly, the way he touches him, and the freezing cold of his hands only makes all the sensations stronger.

He’s being so careful with him now, and Naruto isn’t used to this. It reminds him of their first night, and the memory feels bittersweet; the guilt that’s still gnawing at him doesn’t let him completely relax. Naruto closes his eyes, throwing his head back; he has to stay quiet, but it’s hard.

Kakuzu moves away, enough to slide a hand between their bodies, forcing Naruto’s legs apart; his cold fingers lightly brush over his inner thigh before— _oh god—_ Naruto shudders, exhaling—it feels weird after so much time, but definitely not unpleasant.  
He presses his forehead against Kakuzu’s shoulder, trying to relax, but another movement makes him arch in unexpectedly strong surge of pleasure.

“Naruto,” Kakuzu says, slightly annoyed, “Calm down.”

Naruto realizes he’s clutching on his hair so hard he’s about to tear some out—and lets go, smiling a little. Just like before—Kakuzu has always been kind of weird about his hair.

And Naruto liked his hair—though he respected his unwillingness, sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

A strange thought flashes in his mind—can Kakuzu even feel pain now?

Maybe he can; Naruto strokes his hair lightly one more time.

Kakuzu’s look isn’t annoyed, just concerned, and Naruto says, “Sorry, I’m kind of... out of practice,” and tries to suppress a nervous laughter.

“Are you hurt?” Kakuzu asks, seemingly indifferent, but Naruto still hears worry in his tone.

And it feels good that he’s concerned about him, even because of such a minor thing—even after... _everything_.

“No,” Naruto shakes his head. “Feels a bit strange, but so good, and... You know I can’t say all this stuff, ’ttebayo! Just... fuck me.”

Naruto doesn’t know why he blushes at these last words. It’s stupid to be embarrassed by this at his age, he’s a grown man—and still reacting like that.

Kakuzu laughs quietly and leans down; Naruto sees this familiar tenderness in his eyes, sees every detail of his looks now that he’s so close—all the scars and wrinkles, and the cracks on his skin, once again reminding that this body is moving only because of the forbidden technique, that he’s actually long dead.

_And this realization hurts too much._

“There’s no need to talk, you’re right.” Kakuzu kisses him again, preventing him from saying anything.

But yes, words only ruin everything.

The less you say, the better.

_Though there is something Naruto wants to say—but just can’t bring himself to._

***

“Do you really think you’re gonna find something?” Hidan asks skeptically.

Himawari looks down at him from the ladder. She isn’t sure, but it’s worth trying—dad always had quite a lot of interesting techniques, maybe there’s something that can help Hidan.

There’s so much in this huge collection in his office—there must be something they could use.

“I don’t know, but it’s better than doing nothing,” she replies. “You don’t want to spend the rest of your life... like this. I certainly wouldn’t.”

“Fuck.” Hidan has nothing to say to this. “Yeah, I don’t. But I’m telling you, you won’t find anything. There are no such techniques.”

“Like you know everything,” Himawari giggles and keeps searching through the shelves.

“Definitely more than you, kid,” there’s clear superiority in Hidan’s voice.

Himawari laughs openly—really, Hidan is like ten years older than her or even more, but he’s worse than Boruto at times.

“I may be young, but I’m good at ninjutsu,” she says.

Hidan snorts; she thinks he’d turn away if he could, but he has no choice but to keep looking at her.

For some reason, Himawari likes to imagine what would his reactions be if he had a body—she thinks that Hidan usually gestures actively, especially in arguments; that he moves constantly, doesn’t like staying in place.

Maybe it’s because his face is very lively, expressing all the emotions so brightly. Himawari thinks that he has to be like that in everything.

She doesn’t share her thoughts with him, thinking he won’t appreciate it; but she thinks about it anyway.

She’d really like to see him... the way he should be.

A strange sound distracts Himawari from digging in the scrolls—nobody is supposed to be home yet, what is this? She glances at Hidan, who gives her the same puzzled look, and Himawari frowns. She gets down from the ladder, unsure what to do—they probably need to get out quickly—and then she hears it again.

This time, it’s clearly a voice.

Father’s voice— _‘please’_ , breathy and almost pleading.

She doesn’t know what’s going on but decides to check—what if something happened? So she picks Hidan’s head up, ignoring the complaints—she can’t just leave him here—and rushes towards where the sounds are coming from.

The closer she gets, the more clearly she hears someone’s ragged breathing, getting louder with each second.

The fact that she does open the door to father’s bedroom can only be explained by her stupid curiosity—because even she understands _what_ is happening there when she’s close enough to hear, _‘please, more’._

“The hell you’re doing, kid?” Hidan hisses when Himawari opens the door a little and peeks inside. “Little idiot...”

As she expected, father isn’t alone—and he’s in a quite... compromising situation. At first Himawari thinks he’s with mom, noticing a dark-haired head moving rhythmically between his spread legs.

Then she realizes her mistake as she sees a broad tanned back covered with scars, strong— _male_ —hands holding father’s thighs.

And father’s hand is tangled in his long dark hair, tugging on it with all his strength.

Himawari feels her head spin.

Shock mixes with disbelief and hurt for mom—but for some reason she’s only slightly surprised, as though something like this was to be expected.

No, maybe the relationship between her parents did become a little cold lately, but it’s normal for couples who have been together for so many years, so how could dad—

Just like this—and Himawari realizes she’s not even too mad at him.

She doesn’t really care.

“Shit,” Hidan mutters, and Himawari flinches in surprise—she almost forgot he was here, though it would seem impossible with the weight of his head in her hands. “Jashin-sama, make me fucking blind.”

At any other time she’d laugh at Hidan’s words—but not now.

All her attention is focused on her father and this man.

She recognizes him.

She saw him just a couple days ago—it would be difficult _not_ to recognize him, with his... unusual looks.

_And Hidan’s reaction doesn’t seem as surprising now—it must be really unpleasant to see this._

As these thoughts run through her head, Himawari stands still, frozen in place, watching their bodies moving in sync, and really wants to look away but can’t—as if her gaze is glued to them.

“Let’s get out of here,” Hidan’s whisper makes her look down at him. “Shit, I think I’d puke if I still could.” He lets out a strained chuckle.

Himawari doesn’t laugh or even smile back. She still feels like in some sort of trance as she closes the door and walks away.

Have they noticed her? It seemed like they haven’t, too preoccupied with each other. But still... perhaps...

She doesn’t know what to think.

“Hey,” Hidan calls, and she stops, confused and helpless; maybe she should reassure him, but words just don’t come to her. “Kiss me, Himawari-chan,” Hidan says suddenly.

It’s so weird and unexpected; and Himawari can’t explain to herself why she raises his head up—on one level with her own face—and kisses him. It’s uncertain and childish, just a peck on the lips—and she jerks away immediately, feeling her face burn.

“Like a baby,” Hidan grins. “You call that a kiss?”

“And how should I have done that?” she asks.

“Let me show you,” Hidan offers, his smile getting even wider.

And Himawari presses her lips against his again; he kisses her deeply and boldly, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Her first impulse is to jerk away because of how unusual this feels; but she forces herself not to move, and even tries to respond, making Hidan grin in satisfaction.

She thinks she kind of likes it, though it’s still a little weird; and she still doesn’t really understand _why._

She has to break the kiss when she starts to lack air; she’s breathing hard, and her face is burning, and everything inside her is burning, too; it feels strange and weird, but also—good.

And even _right_ —in some impossible way.

“Why did you ask me to do this?” Himawari whispers.

“Why not? It's a nice distraction. Though you still have a lot to learn,” Hidan grins.

“But you’ll teach me, right?” Himawari smiles back, though her lips are slightly trembling.

She doesn’t think about father anymore.

Or about anything at all.

***

To be honest, Naruto almost isn’t surprised when he wakes up alone—but he still gets up immediately, rushes out of the room, hoping that Kakuzu is still here somewhere—that he really _was_ here.

But, as expected, he’s not. Instead, Naruto stumbles into Hinata when he walks along the hallway quickly, almost knocking her down.

“Naruto-kun?” Hinata says, surprised, and Naruto pulls her into a desperate embrace.

Her hair smells like sun, morning coffee and a bit like ramen—she must have been preparing it for him; and Naruto feels his heart constrict with guilt again. He tightens his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent—so familiar, so right, not at all like the scent of smoke and damp earth that’s been haunting him.

“What happened?” Hinata asks quietly, stroking his back. “Naruto-kun, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Her worry is almost tangible, and that makes it worse.

Naruto doesn’t reply—doesn’t know what to say.

He betrayed her, has been betraying her all these years—her heart would be broken if she knew about everything. He feels like a coward for being silent now, but he just can’t bring himself to tell her—how _could_ he even tell her anything?

When even he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on. He feels so confused by his emotions, and a part of him still wants to believe that _all of this_ was just a dream.

Is it possible that his constantly tired mind is playing tricks on him? Perhaps he just needs to sleep more than three hours a day and use clones less often. Perhaps it’s just that.

Naruto keeps repeating this to himself; he feels on the verge of breakdown and comes up with the weirdest excuses only to keep himself together.

He should take a small vacation—just a couple days, Kakashi-sensei and Shikamaru would help with the workload, and Naruto would spend this time with Hinata and the kids, like a good husband and father should.

He’s a good husband and father.

But even now, as he’s hugging Hinata, he thinks of Kakuzu.

His too _understanding_ smirk.

It hurts _too much_.

Naruto only ever causes pain to the people he loves.

***

“Congratulations,” Naruto says sincerely, watching how Sakura is smiling, not letting go of Sasuke’s hand.

They look so happy—even Sasuke, though he’s trying to appear as unfazed as ever, can’t hide the warmth in his eyes.

To think how long it had taken them to finally find their happiness—the happiness they deserved.

Naruto smiles, looking at them; what else could he need when the people dear to him are happy?

“Thanks, Naruto,” Sakura exchanges glances with Sasuke and laughs at something—probably their little secrets. _Lovebirds._ “And how are things going between you and Hinata?”

Him and Hinata... Naruto falters for some reason before answering; and looks back to see Hinata. She seems to sense his gaze, turns her head and smiles—softly and tenderly, but with a kind of expectation in her eyes. Naruto returns the smile and looks at Sakura again, waiting for his reply.

And he says—not what he planned to but what he feels would be right.

“I’m going to propose to her soon,” and he adds, “just don’t tell her yet, okay? I want it to be a surprise.”

Sasuke raises his eyebrow skeptically but nods; and Sakura rushes to hug him—says, delighted, “It’s amazing, Naruto, I’m so happy for you!” but then she adds in a menacing whisper, “Don’t even think of breaking her heart.”

“What are you saying, Sakura-chan,” Naruto objects, just as quietly, and holds her by the shoulders. “I love Hinata.”

“I’m just kidding,” Sakura moves away. “I’m really happy that you finally...” she glances at Sasuke, “that you finally decided. I was afraid poor Hinata would have to wait ten more years until it got to you.”

Naruto understands too well what Sakura really wanted to say but kept silent because of Sasuke, kept the shameful secret which Naruto entrusted her with. And he agrees; he’s also happy that he’s finally let go of the past, let himself live in the present, let someone into his world.

_Has he?_

Naruto remembers Hinata; how they walked down the streets of Konoha together, just barely touching hands; how she smiled a bit awkwardly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear; how she looked at him with such tenderness and love, and how Naruto couldn’t find words to tell her how amazing she was.

A bitter smile appears on his face when the image of Hinata in his arms is replaced by another—one that he still hasn’t forgotten.

Does life end when your loved ones die? Naruto has full right to forget about everything and move on.

Somehow, he feels like he’s making a mistake.

But it’s so stupid and selfish.

The same evening Naruto orders a ring—and a few days later, in front of everyone, he asks Hinata to become his wife. And when she says ‘yes’, her voice trembling with tears but still happy, he understands that everything is how it should be.

Their wedding is perfect, everyone is so happy for them; and Hinata is happy, too, doesn’t stop smiling even for a second, and keeps looking at Naruto as though he’s her whole world.

Naruto would like to say the same about her—he’d like to share her happiness now, but he can’t.

Not that he’s not glad—not that he doesn’t feel anything towards Hinata.

But still, too often he catches himself thinking that he would be much happier if it weren’t her next to him now.

Naruto tries to smile back at her as sincere as possible, tries to hug and kiss her on the cheek, repeating _how beautiful she is on their most important day._

Sometimes he thinks he sees sadness and understanding in Hinata’s eyes; but then this expression is replaced by joy again, and he convinces himself that it’s only his imagination.

Putting the ring on her finger, Naruto can’t help but remember that day from the past—what he should have forgotten; and it takes all of him to keep a straight face.

“I love you, Naruto-kun,” Hinata whispers before kissing him.

“I love you too,” Naruto replies, so quietly that he barely hears himself.

And this is the first and the last time he says these words to her.

***

They don’t often get to meet lately, and their meetings are usually short; and it makes Naruto appreciate moments like this even more. When he’s just sitting on the bed with his legs stretched out across Kakuzu’s lap—who doesn’t seem to mind it, strangely enough.

He seems to be consumed in whatever he’s reading—Naruto glances at the book cover, black and without a title or anything written on it. Naruto thinks about maybe asking him what it's about but decides not to break the comfortable silence. A silly thought crosses his mind—it'd be funny if Kakuzu was reading something like Jiraiya’s terrible novels, though it’s unlikely. But who knows.

Naruto suppresses a laugh, shaking his head. Why does he always think of nonsense like that?

Seeming to have felt his intent gaze, Kakuzu looks up at him. “What is it?” He closes the book and puts it aside, waiting for the reply.

Well, Naruto definitely isn’t going to voice _that_ idea.

Kakuzu runs a hand through his disheveled hair, brushing it off his face, and for some reason, Naruto’s gaze lingers on the ring on his finger. He's always wondered about it—whether it had some meaning or practical use.

And he asks; the time seems to be as good as any, and he can’t really come up with anything better to say.

“I thought... all of you, the Akatsuki, I mean, wear these rings. Why?”

Kakuzu shrugs, obviously not too impressed with such choice of topic.

“It was Leader’s idea. Mostly for communication. Opening the entrances to our hideouts. It has other uses,” which he’s not going to talk about, it seems.

And it honestly doesn’t matter all that much.

Definitely not now.

“Can I see?” Naruto asks, shifting on the bed and crossing his legs to give them more space. For some reason, instead of taking off the ring and giving it to him, Kakuzu simply holds out his hand—and looks at him strangely.

Well, it must be an important thing, and trust is difficult for him; to be honest, Naruto is surprised how Kakuzu is so open with him already.

“Hey,” Naruto takes his hand, studying the ring, and an even more stupid thought flashes in his mind. “Are you an honest man?”

“Not at all,” Kakuzu replies immediately. But then adds, noticing the look on Naruto’s face, “But I’m not lying to you—if this is what bothers you.”

Naruto shakes his head—it _is_ nice to hear, but he expected a different answer; and even prepared another question.

But Kakuzu, it seems, just loves _not meeting_ his expectations.

“You’ve ruined such a great joke now,” Naruto says, slightly disappointed, and moves closer, pressing his cheek against his shoulder.

Kakuzu chuckles quietly. “An incredibly dumb joke. Sometimes it’s much better when you are silent.” So he saw through it; and answered in his usual manner.

“Don’t start,” Naruto can’t help but sigh.

Okay, perhaps it was dumb, but he still thinks it could’ve been funny.

“I hate jokes.”

“You hate a lot of things, I see.”

“Almost everything,” Kakuzu agrees, and it’s hard to tell if he’s serious. “Except money and coffee.”

Naruto snorts, trying to hold back laughter; Kakuzu’s love for coffee, always disgustingly sweet, never ceases to amaze—and amuse.

“I’m not on that list?” he asks, partly as another joke.

Kakuzu for some reason thinks about the answer for a while, and then responds with surprising seriousness, “You are. Don’t think that you’re not important to me.”

Naruto looks away, feeling somewhat embarrassed and unsure what to say. And—of course—ends up saying something dumb again.

“Then what about a proposal?” he laughs a bit awkwardly. “Look, you’ve already got a ring. No need to spend money. You only need to ask.”

“One more word, and I’ll stitch your mouth shut,” Kakuzu replies tiredly, but contrary to the threat—holds him closer, and Naruto relaxes.

He laughs again, “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”

“Shut up already.”

Naruto does—but the smile still doesn’t leave his face.


	3. Chapter 3

They haven’t really talked about what happened on that evening. Himawari didn’t know how to start the conversation, and Hidan, it seemed, didn’t even want to.

Still, something has definitely changed in their relationship, subtly, but noticeably. Himawari thought she liked it.

She liked Hidan. In _that_ , romantic kind of way; even though it was probably wrong. She didn’t know if Hidan felt the same—but he, at least, didn’t mind her kissing him. And that had to mean something, even she didn’t really know what.

And that was enough.

Himawari likes the way Hidan smiles, the way he jokes at her, the way he looks at her—nobody has ever looked at her like this. Himawari wants to think that it’s how people look at someone they like.

And maybe—even something more; because she thinks she might be feeling a little more than just ‘liking’ towards Hidan.

In the abandoned house on the outskirts of Konoha, guarded by her barriers, they spend almost all the time which isn’t taken up by training and missions (which are, fortunately, rare).

Himawari almost stops coming back to her own home.

She has nothing to do there, in that atmosphere of endless sorrow and loneliness, even when the whole family gathers at the dinner table. Mom forces a smile, hiding her face behind her hair so that no one sees her tears—but Himawari still sees right through her. Father simply averts his gaze, not looking at anyone, occasionally touching the ring on his finger—the very same ring that Himawari gave him, belonging to that man.

And Boruto... He’s probably the only one who doesn’t change at all. His fights with father become more frequent, more serious—it’s not just childish protests anymore; but Himawari thinks that perhaps it would have been better if all of them behaved like this. Even if with a loud fight, even if everything shattered afterwards—but it’d be better to end it once and for all, instead of hopelessly trying to mend the feelings, once so strong, and now falling apart.

But they keep pretending to be the _perfect happy family_.

Himawari can’t bear to stay at home, and so she escapes, coming up with stupid and unbelievable excuses, only to be with Hidan a little more—to forget about all the problems.

Hidan doesn’t seem to care much about what’s going on. He tells her to just let it go, because it doesn’t matter. It matters for Himawari; but she lacks the strength to fix anything.

When she kisses Hidan, entwining her fingers in his soft hair, presses his head closer to her—in these moments more than ever she wishes that he had a body, that he could hold her—convince her that everything would be okay.

“Really, Himawari,” Hidan chuckles, giving her an unusually serious look. “Don’t bother. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I don’t understand,” Himawari says helplessly, hugging herself. “Why is everything... like _this_?”

Hidan is silent, but Himawari sees pain in his eyes.

“I fucked up again,” he says finally after a few long minutes. “We all did, I guess. Didn’t find what we wanted. But at least,” and he smiles suddenly, “we’ve found something better, eh? Himawari.”

She returns the smile, takes his head into her hands again and kisses him—softly, gently.

Really, there’s no reason to be upset.

It’s alright.

Even if it isn’t, it will be.

Himawari will do whatever it takes to make it so.

***

“Seems like I’ll have to remain a damn talking head forever,” Hidan says one day—he sounds frustrated and strangely empty, as if he’s already given up.

And it does look like the most likely outcome, but Himawari isn’t going to put up with this.

She didn’t manage to find any techniques that could restore Hidan’s body or create a new one for him; but perhaps there were other options.

“Hidan,” Himawari begins thoughtfully—this strange idea that accidentally crossed her mind doesn’t leave her alone. “What if we somehow... attach your head to someone else’s body or something like that—will you be able to control it? The body doesn’t have to be your own, right?”

Hidan looks at her, wide-eyed.

“Fuck,” is the only thing he manages to utter after a while.

“Something wrong?”

“ _Wrong?_ Hima, you’re a fucking genius!” he almost shouts. “How didn’t I think of that?”

Himawari smiles a little; she wasn’t sure Hidan would like her idea, much less—that it would be doable.

Though they still are far from making it happen... but that’s not the hardest part.

Himawari thinks that she should ask Sakura-san to give her a few lessons on medical techniques; she doubts she’ll be able to learn those on her own, without a good teacher.

And she’ll worry about finding a suitable body later—and she’s not even afraid of the calmness with which she’s thinking of it.

After all, perhaps, while on a mission, she’ll encounter some criminal who she won’t feel sorry for—and whose body she can use to help Hidan with a clear conscience.

With a clear conscience... Himawari chuckles bitterly—there was a time when she would’ve never thought of something like that.

But it’s different now.

Everything has changed after Hidan appeared in her life, and for him—now Himawari realizes it clearly—she is willing to compromise some of her principles.

She is a shinobi—why would she fear to stain her hands with blood, she will have to do it one day—so is there a difference whether it’s sooner or later?

“Careful,” Hidan advises, watching her intently. “Don’t stab yourself. You’re not immortal yet.”

“I remember,” Himawari nods, biting her lip as she places the heavy body in the center of the ritual circle drawn with her own blood. The deep cut on her arm still hurts, clumsily bandaged—she’ll just say she got injured on a mission, she thinks.

Unfortunately, this man’s body won’t be right for Hidan—he’s not even a shinobi, though he is one of the most despicable people Himawari has met—she grimaces, remembering what he was about to do to that girl. Maybe it’s good that Hidan won’t have to be associated with someone like this. Either way, he needs someone who’s strong enough.

It’s nothing more than Hidan’s guess, but Himawari prefers to trust his words—after all, he definitely knows more about his abilities and about his faith.

“Accept this sacrifice, Jashin-sama,” Himawari says, feeling her voice break treacherously at the word ‘sacrifice’.

She feels strange—it’s a feeling that she’s doing something wrong, and weird anticipation, and determination, and—a little bit of fear.

But Hidan is here, even if his support is limited to words, and Himawari realizes that there’s no point to be afraid.

Stabbing the man’s heart with her kunai, Himawari feels a shiver run through her body—it’s the first time when she kills a person.

When she sees for sure that he’s dead.

Until now, even though she’s been in real fights, she only disarmed her opponents—letting her sensei finish them off. And, to be honest, even that didn’t happen often.

Himawari closes her eyes—and suddenly feels a strange freezing surge of energy. At first she thinks it’s her imagination—or the adrenaline rush, she’s so nervous now; but the feeling doesn’t go away, and Himawari knows—it’s real.

“You feel that?” Hidan grins.

“Yes,” Himawari says slowly, not quite believing it yet. “Yes. Jashin-sama has accepted the sacrifice.”

“I knew you’d make it,” there’s unusual warmth in Hidan’s tone. “I knew you deserved to become His faithful priestess too.”

Himawari smiles, promising herself that she’ll whatever it takes not to let Hidan down.

She thinks that she feels a light touch to her shoulder—but it must be just a gust of wind.

***

“You know,” Naruto says quietly, “I feel like I’m losing my mind, Sakura-chan.”

“Don’t say nonsense,” Sakura replies, completely calm. “I think you’re just tired.”

Naruto chuckles bitterly and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just... it’s such a mess. It’s like everything is falling apart.”

This time, worry flashes in Sakura’s eyes, and she moves closer, taking Naruto’s hand carefully.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she asks. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

Naruto isn’t exaggerating—though who knows. He doesn’t really know what’s going on, how all this can be possible—and he wishes it was only a dream he could wake up from and forget forever.

But he knows it’s real; and that he has to face it.

He wants to tell it to someone, but he just can’t find the words—even though Sakura knew everything back then and never once told anyone his secret, he isn’t sure she’ll understand him now. He isn’t sure if she’ll even believe him.

“What is this?” Sakura asks suddenly, and Naruto follows her gaze.

He smiles wryly—of course, she noticed the ring.

“Looks familiar,” Sakura looks back at him, right into his eyes. “Didn’t the Akatsuki wear rings like this?”

Naruto says nothing but he doesn’t have to—she understands immediately.

“It’s... _his_ ring, isn’t it? Where did you find it? Why are you wearing it?”

“It doesn’t matter where,” Naruto pauses. “And why I’m wearing it... why not?”

Sakura looks at him strangely, with a mix of sympathy and reproach.

Naruto doesn’t know what to say next, should he tell her—it’s Sakura who has always understood and supported him, but... _this_ time is different. This time is much worse than what was going on then.

He has no excuses now.

Unless it really was a hallucination, unless there’s something wrong with his head.

But it’s stupid to try and convince himself of that.

“Naruto,” Sakura says wearily. She does look tired—and it’s also one of the reasons Naruto keeps silent. He doesn’t want to burden anyone. “Seriously. What is this sudden nostalgia? It’s all in the past. He’s dead.”

“I know, but...” Naruto bites his lip. How does he even start talking about something like this?

Talking had never been his strong point.

Which sometimes was for the best.

***

Damn ero-sannin, Naruto thinks; Jiraiya left him alone again and went to collect _material_ for his stupid books. And that’s when he was supposed to train him!

Naruto feels uneasy just standing still at the bar, and so begins to look around.

There aren’t too many people, which is surprising—such places are usually crowded in the late evenings, but perhaps this bar isn’t exactly popular. Naruto sees three men at the table in the corner, drinking, laughing and shouting; a couple which seems so out of place here—Naruto would never bring Sakura-chan to a place like this!—and then there’s a shinobi standing next to him, staring at his untouched drink and seeming lost in his thoughts.

Though he feels Naruto’s gaze fixed on him rather quickly—and turns to him, raising his eyebrow questioningly.  
He’s wearing a mask, just like Kakashi-sensei, so it’s impossible to read his emotions beyond that.

Naruto frowns, noticing the crossed-out symbol on his headband. Shinobi catches his glance and shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a missing-nin,” Naruto points out the obvious.

“Already scared?” the shinobi replies coldly. “You don’t interest me. I doubt I’ll get a decent reward for you. Brats like you usually aren’t worth anything.”

Naruto falls for this, without even realizing, and exclaims, “Don’t underestimate me, ‘ttebayo! I’ll be a Hokage one day!”

It’s hard to tell for certain with this mask, but it seems like the shinobi smiles—ever so slightly, as if amused by Naruto’s words.

“Hokage,” he repeats, gesturing the bartender to come closer.

Naruto crosses his arms, turning away—he doesn’t like people doubting his abilities, but he doesn’t manage to come up with a decent comeback as the man suddenly slides a glass towards him.

Naruto looks up, blinking in confusion—it’s unexpected and weird, the fact that the stranger decided to get him a drink—even suspicious.

“Care to drink with me?” he offers, and there’s no hint of hostility in his voice—though what good shinobi will reveal his true intentions?  
Though it’s not like either of them is on a mission now.

“I don’t think I should,” Naruto mutters but still takes the glass. “Ah, whatever!” He takes a big gulp and coughs immediately—he’s never tried alcohol before, and it doesn’t turn out to be anything amazing. Quite on the contrary.

This time, the shinobi lets out an actual laugh. “I guess that’s enough for you.”

Naruto doesn’t even argue, shakes his head and takes a few deep breaths. “Maybe it’s just not my thing,” he mutters under his breath.

“Nothing wrong with that,” the shinobi shrugs. Strangely enough, he doesn’t rush to leave or end the conversation, and Naruto isn’t against it—he has no idea when Jiraiya is going to show up, and standing here doing nothing for another hour or more doesn’t seem exactly appealing.

“Are you here, like, for a reason?”

“Not really. You could say it’s my night off,” he frowns a bit at these words, “and I’m not in the habit of working for free.”

Did he mean he’s not going to try and kill Naruto? Could’ve phrased it in a simpler way. Still, Naruto feels somewhat relieved.

“You?” He doesn’t sound particularly interested, but as long as he doesn’t mind talking, Naruto is fine with that.

“I’m waiting for ero-sannin... my, uh, sensei,” Naruto feels somewhat awkward, and it’s weird calling Jiraiya his _sensei_ —but it’ll do. “He said he was going to gather some material for his new book, but I know he’s just going to spy at women at the hot springs.” He makes a disgusted face, and the shinobi gives him a really weird look.

“And you’re not interested in that?”

“Not... really, no.” Naruto feels even more awkward and changes the topic quickly. “Uh, he’s actually a great shinobi, but he never teaches me anything useful. I literally learned only one jutsu.” Naruto doubts his new acquaintance is really interested in his rant, but even if he’s just pretending to care, he at least keeps him company—and Naruto can admit to himself that it’s what he needs right now.

And if Jiraiya gets mad when he returns, well, it’s his own fault for leaving Naruto stranded like this.

The shinobi—he still hasn’t told Naruto his name, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking—suddenly moves closer to him, and Naruto realizes he’s looking right into his eyes.

And his eyes are... weird, bright green and as if glowing; though perhaps it’s just light reflecting.

“What is it?” he asks, and Naruto realizes he’s been silent for a while. The way shinobi looks at him is strange, but Naruto can’t quite figure out the emotion.

“Nothing,” he mutters uncertainly and looks away, remembering that it’s rude to stare like this.

For some reason the shinobi covers Naruto’s hand with his own, warm and strong, and Naruto freezes, unsure how to react.

And in the next second he’s kissing him, firm and confident; when did he even take off his mask?

The second kiss in his life, and just like the first, it isn’t with Sakura-chan—but for some reason Naruto doesn’t feel like pushing him away. He even responds, clumsily at first, but quickly adjusting—and likes it.

The shinobi pulls away and looks at Naruto, still not letting go of his hand. “Well?”

“I... don’t mind?” Naruto says half-questioningly.

He might not be experienced in this kind of thing, but he understands where this is going—and still doesn’t mind it at all, even though he’s surprised himself.

They don’t even reach the room—he presses Naruto against the wall right in the dark hallway, and Naruto can’t—doesn’t want to stop him.

It’s fast, awkward, hot and unbearably good—to the point he can’t hold back the moans, and his heart is beating rapidly. Naruto doesn’t really know what to do or how, so he repeats after him—clutching at his shoulders just to stay on his feet; his head is spinning, and the only thought is— _more_.

He kisses Naruto’s neck, biting slightly; it hurts a little, but it only adds to the pleasure. His hands slide under Naruto’s clothes, caressing the skin, and at some point Naruto stops acknowledging the reality, pressing closer against him.

And it’s great, even more than that—until Naruto suddenly remembers that he hasn’t asked for his name, and it feels wrong—he has to know.

So he moves away, putting his hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes—slightly surprised.

“Something wrong?” he asks, unexpectedly concerned. “Want me to stop?”

“N-no,” Naruto exhales, “It’s fine, I just... what’s your name?”

He’s silent for a while, looking at him with the same confusion—but then chuckles and says, “Kakuzu.”

Naruto nods and pulls him closer again, surprised at his own boldness.

“I’m Naruto,” he says hastily, and his voice trembles for some reason.

Kakuzu embraces him—almost carefully, and Naruto breathes hard, trying to gather himself; embarrassment overwhelms him—it turned out much more awkward than he expected.

“Calm down,” Kakuzu says, clearly amused, but surprisingly, there’s understanding in his voice. “Naruto.”

There’s something in the way he says his name, and Naruto can’t even explain what—the tone, the emotion—but he stops thinking about it, or anything at all, when Kakuzu kisses him again.

  
He doesn’t even remember how they finally reach the room, where everything continues—and Naruto completely loses control. Kakuzu’s hands seem to touch him everywhere at once, and he doesn’t stop kissing him—even when his lips start to hurt, and his lungs almost burn from lack of oxygen. It drives him mad, both this sharp pleasure and the understanding of wrongness of what’s happening. Naruto vaguely remembers—how does he even know this—that it must be painful, unpleasant, but his fears end up unfounded as they don’t even go that far, and it’s still good and so _right_. Naruto wraps his arms around Kakuzu’s neck, pulling him closer, kisses him hastily, asks for more, stronger—and receives, until the morning, until his thoughts are a complete mess, and his words just incoherent moans.

Already falling asleep, completely exhausted, Naruto feels a light touch of his lips—and at the same time, hears a quiet, barely audible, ‘mine’.

But he can’t be sure he didn’t imagine it.

When Naruto wakes up, he’s not even surprised to not find anyone next to him. He washes up, gets dressed and goes downstairs. He asks about Kakuzu and nods understandingly when he hears that he left at dawn.

It would be stupid to expect otherwise.

When he leaves the bar, he finds Jiraiya; who, of course, notices his disheveled look and telling marks on his neck—and Naruto curses himself for not thinking about it.  
Jiraiya pats his shoulder, grins and asks, winking at him, “So, what beautiful girl stole your heart, Naruto?”

Naruto mumbles something in response, and after some time Jiraiya leaves him alone, disappointed—though not forgetting to shed a tear of pride and venture into memories of ‘the old days’.

To be honest, Naruto really doesn’t want to hear about whatever Jiraiya did in his old days.

His mind is still a mess, and he both wants and doesn’t want to remember the events of last night.

It couldn’t have happened for real—it’s not like Naruto to do something like that; but it happened, and he still isn’t sure what exactly he feels.

No matter how he tries, he can’t stop thinking about Kakuzu—the memories are still so vivid in his head.

Bright green eyes, long hair that was getting in his face, dry rough hands on his thighs, weird scars beneath his fingers—and unthinkably strong pleasure.

Naruto feels weird and awkward—and ashamed, too, because he’s always thought he liked Sakura-chan, after all, and here he is, having casual sex with someone he hasn’t ever met before.

And still, if he had the chance to live yesterday over again, he wouldn’t change a thing.

Somehow Naruto catches himself thinking that he wants to see him again.

***

Sakura watches him with worry, and Naruto desperately wants to look away—he doesn’t feel enough strength in himself to face her. Even if she doesn’t judge him—he just doesn’t deserve her sympathy.

“I know it was... hard for you,” she breaks the silence finally, and there’s no reproach in her voice—only understanding and this strange weariness. “And that it probably still is. I... I thought sometimes about what would have happened if I... had killed Sasuke back then.” She frowns, looking down. Naruto remembers it too well, just like her—and he knows he wouldn’t have been able to lose another person dear to him. “I couldn’t imagine what you felt then. What you feel now. But I thought you’ve let it go. That Hinata... was able to heal the pain.”

“She was,” Naruto forces a weak, fake smile. “But not fully, I suppose.”

Sakura sighs and strokes his hand, trying to comfort him; and even though it doesn’t help, Naruto still appreciates that she’s here.

“It’s not even... it’s because of me,” he exhales, feeling his throat tighten. “I could have done something. But I just...” he doesn’t finish.

Because of him.

 _Everything_ that’s gone wrong is because of him—he couldn’t save the man he loved, couldn’t make the woman he respected and admired happy, couldn’t even keep the bond with his children from breaking. And now, with the past suddenly coming back to life, he feels so guilty and helpless—and he probably will ruin everything again.

Sakura puts a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “I think it’s just the stress. You’re working too much. Get some rest, take a couple days off—you’ll feel better. And will stop thinking of... what happened long ago.”

Naruto holds back a bitter chuckle; he never stops thinking about it, all these years, no matter what he does.

Himawari doesn’t manage to step away from the door in time when it opens—and Sakura comes out of the office, saying, “Don’t forget what I told you, Naruto.”

Noticing Himawari, she immediately stops, looks at her with concern and slight suspicion.

“Himawari-chan,” she says, “what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to dad,” Himawari lies quickly.

Actually, she just wanted to know what _they_ were talking about.

And what she heard was... not what she expected. So Sakura knew about everything? And does mom know, too? Himawari wouldn’t dare ask her; but maybe that’s why she’s always so sad; because she also knows that dad still loves another.

“I see,” Sakura relaxes. “Well, you can go inside. Naruto could use some distraction right now.”

Sakura is about to walk past her to the exit, but Himawari doesn’t let her, remembering about another thing.

“Sakura-san, wait,” she catches her hand, earning a confused glance. “I’ve been thinking... could you teach me medical techniques? At least the basic ones.”

“So you want to become a medic, Himawari-chan?” Sakura asks softly.

“I don’t want to be useless,” Himawari says, and it’s even partially true—she’s not that strong compared to Boruto, not to mention her parents; and though her Byakugan gives her certain advantages, she isn’t as good in combat as her teammates.

But, of course, it’s not the main reason—which Sakura doesn’t need to know.

Sakura’s look becomes understanding, and she nods.

“Well, I’m not the best teacher, but I’ll try to help you. Are you free tomorrow? It’s my day off at the hospital.”

“Of course, Sakura-san,” Himawari doesn’t hold back a sincere smile. “Thank you!”

Naruto looks at the picture on his desk—his family, still so happy; they all look into the camera with such sincere smiles, and it seems to have been so long ago.

Now they hardly ever smile for real.

And Naruto is the only one to blame.

He feels sick with himself, but he can’t fix anything.

Perhaps he should have never given Hinata any hope—should have never married her, for it didn’t make either of them happy.

Naruto hates himself, hates that he can’t stop thinking of Kakuzu even now.

He’s an idiot, a hopeless fool if he hopes things can somehow get back to the way they were.

***

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be looking for me,” Kakuzu says, slightly surprised.

Naruto smiles awkwardly, shifting his feet; he didn’t really plan to look for him. He wanted to see Kakuzu again but wasn’t sure if he should—if he _could_ find him.

And when he accidentally stumbled upon him in a town where they, by some strange coincidence, stopped during a mission, he just had to talk to him.

Even though he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted, or if he needed to do it at all.

Kakuzu didn’t seem particularly happy about their meeting—but not displeased, either, and it gave Naruto some hope.

Though what did he hope for—to get to know him more?

“Well, yeah... and I found you.” Naruto looks into his eyes, again getting lost in them—people shouldn’t have such eyes, they’re too... amazing— _damn, Naruto, what are you thinking, though you’re not thinking at all_ —he feels that he’s blushing.

Kakuzu looks at him without much interest, not seeming impressed at all.

“Why?”

“We... I mean, I...” Naruto stutters—he doesn’t know what to say and _how._ They hadn’t spoken much the last time. “I wanted to see you.”

“So here I am. Now what?” It’s like he’s laughing at him.

Naruto reaches out uncertainly, touches his hand lightly, afraid that he’ll push him away.

He doesn’t; but doesn’t respond to the touch also, only keeps looking straight into Naruto’s eyes.

So strange.

“I...”

Naruto doesn’t know what to say or do.

Hug him? Kiss? Say ‘let’s date’?

For some reason he’s sure that Sakura-chan smacking him on the head will seem like nothing if he really does any of this.

Really, Kakuzu doesn’t look like someone who’d appreciate something like that; even though Naruto does want to at least hug him. And that’s weird, too, because getting so... attached? to someone after just one night is simply foolish.

Naruto inhales nervously.

“I...” his voice trembles. “Just couldn’t get you out of my head this whole time.”

“And I should care, because..?” Kakuzu folds his arms on his chest, and under his gaze, Naruto doesn’t know where to hide from the embarrassment.

It’s not that surprising—what did he even expect; it should have been obvious that Kakuzu didn’t need him, he was just an entertainment for one night. Otherwise he wouldn’t have left so quickly then—or would’ve tried to find Naruto.

Realizing this is unpleasant—almost painful for some reason.

Even though he tries to be rational; _it’s the second time they see each other, damn it._

Naruto nods, biting his lip, and is about to leave— _you’re an idiot, Naruto, what were you thinking._

He freezes when a strong hand carefully but firmly grips his shoulder.

“Wait.” Naruto doesn’t hold back a surprised gasp when Kakuzu turns him around. “I don’t think we had a very good start. Let’s try again.”

Try again—he doesn’t mind—Naruto smiles, and it must look so stupid, but he’s so happy for some reason.

Kakuzu is silent for a while, as if contemplating what to say. He’s still holding him by the shoulder, and Naruto doesn’t want to him to let go.

“I won’t promise you anything,” he says finally. “But if you want to—though I can’t imagine why you would...”

“I do,” Naruto says stubbornly.

He can’t really explain this—but it happens when someone is inexplicably attractive at first sight.

Kakuzu shrugs—amusement flickers in his eyes, as if Naruto said something funny.

Though maybe he did.

Naruto catches himself openly staring at him again.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, unexpectedly even for himself, and immediately bites his tongue. He hopes he won’t ruin everything again; why does he always speak before he thinks?

Kakuzu frowns a bit, as if thinking—but nods. Then reaches to take off the mask, but Naruto catches his hand.

“Let me.”

He slowly pulls the cloth down, ignoring the way his hands tremble—and runs his fingertips over his dark skin, lingering on the strange stitches at the sides of his mouth.

The last time Naruto didn’t have the chance to get a good look at him—and now he can’t bring himself to look away.

Perhaps it’s difficult to call Kakuzu _beautiful_ , though Naruto likes him, he’s more _interesting_ —unusual—and attractive because of that. ‘Beautiful’ would more fit someone like Sasuke, with perfect features, which never seemed all that special to Naruto, though. Or Sakura... Naruto can’t help but smile. Sakura also has green eyes, but they’re not as bright and strangely attractive, and...

Here he goes again—Naruto feels his face get hot and shakes his head.

“That’s enough,” Kakuzu says, slightly irritated, and forces him away; but even though he doesn’t let Naruto touch him anymore, he doesn’t let go of his hand.

Naruto doesn’t understand his actions—doesn’t know if he did something wrong; and just looks away awkwardly, trying to change the topic.

“Hey, uh... these scars of yours, where are they from? They’re so weird.”

They really are: the scars themselves, thin lines on his skin, look long-healed, barely noticeable; but still these stitches seem to be keeping the edges of the wounds together.

Naruto thinks for some reason—maybe it’s some kind of jutsu? Probably.

“Hm.” Kakuzu leans closer, looks into his eyes—so intently as if trying to read his thoughts. “Perhaps I’ll tell you later.”

And before Naruto manages to say something—he kisses him.

***

To Himawari’s surprise, learning to be a medic turns out to be quite interesting—and she makes remarkable progress with each day. She can’t help but be proud of herself, seeing Sakura’s approving looks and hearing her praise—so Himawari is also worth something, she’s not just a pale shadow of her parents and brother.

Mom is also happy with her success, Boruto laughs and says that she’d better learn normal techniques, and father commends her but seems detached doing so; which isn’t surprising or upsetting, it’s just like always.

Father must have a lot on his mind—how funny, considering everything.

But he does look a lot more tired than usual, and Himawari can’t help but worry about him.

“Dad’s been acting strange lately,” Himawari shares her concerns with Sakura during one of the lessons. “He’s hardly ever at home, and he doesn’t look well. Like he’s not sleeping.”

“Oh, Himawari,” Sakura sighs and reaches out to pat her on the head like a child; Himawari winces—it’s one thing to tolerate it from mom and dad, but she wants others to treat her like an adult. “I’ve talked to him, don’t worry. He has a lot of work, you know. The Hokage’s position...” Sakura trails off when she notices Himawari rolling her eyes and smiles a little. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard that from him a lot. But it is true, though. And... Naruto is alright, just tired.”

Himawari would argue, but Sakura doesn’t need to know that she overheard their conversation. And she doesn’t even know what she wants to hear from Sakura now, but still persists.

“Dad has always been working hard, but now—there’s something else, don’t you think?”

Sakura lowers her head. She looks like she’s tormented by something she desperately wants to share—but can’t.

“Naruto is a good man,” she says quietly, not looking at Himawari for some reason. “Don’t judge him for the mistakes he’s made... after all, we all make them.”

Himawari knows what she’s talking about—but still asks, as if wanting to hear another confirmation. “What do you mean?”

Sakura presses her lips, frowns and shakes her head.

“I can’t tell you. I promised Naruto that it would stay between us. But...” she turns to face her, unusually serious. “I understand him. Love is often so strong it destroys us... this is how I loved—love—Sasuke, and if he had called me then, I would have left the village without hesitation. Naruto was smarter than me,” she smiles a little bitterly, “and he did the right thing.”

Himawari is silent, and Sakura smiles, doubtful for some reason,

“But everyone decides what is right and what is not for themselves. I think Naruto still regrets it, wants to change everything, but it’s impossible. Himawari...”

She flinches upon hearing her name.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Don’t think about it, it’s all in the past.” But the past seems to have come alive. “Naruto loves Hinata, and he loves you and Boruto.”

Himawari nods, stifling a bitter laughter. Of course, _loves._ Well, maybe dad loves them, his children, but mom doesn’t get much of that love.

Himawari thinks she only feels worse. Dad wants to change everything... does he wish that he never married mom? Does he wish that she and Boruto were never born?

She really, really doesn’t want to think this way about him; but these treacherous thoughts creep into her mind and settle there; and she can’t get them out, can’t stop thinking about this.

It’s like a whisper, quiet yet audible, voicing all her fears and doubts she never even thought she had.

Mocking her.

***

Their third meeting is even more awkward than the second—at least Naruto thinks so.

Kakuzu doesn’t rush him, doesn’t demand anything; he only embraces him briefly and then gives him the opportunity to act—or do nothing.

They just sit next to each other, silent—it’s impossibly awkward, though perhaps Naruto is the only one feeling this awkwardness; emotions overwhelm him, urging him to do something—anything—but Naruto doesn’t want to mess up.

He’s shaking; and he tells himself it’s because of the cold, it is rather chilly in the room, after all, and he’s hardly wearing anything; though perhaps it’s mostly because of fear.

Seriously, Naruto is nervous, and that’s an understatement—he doesn’t know what to do, _how_ , and whether he needs to do anything at all.

But he wants to do _something_ ; and he raises his hand carefully, touches Kakuzu’s hair—once again surprised how long it is, how doesn’t it get it in the way? Though he usually keeps it tied, but still.

This turns out to be not the best decision—which Naruto realizes when Kakuzu forces his hand away.

“Don’t.”

“Why not?” It’s fine if he doesn’t like it, Naruto isn’t going to insist.

But he’s still a little upset.

Kakuzu says, still irritated, “I don’t like my hair being touched.” But he immediately pulls him into a kiss, and Naruto forgets about everything—including his own doubts.

It feels brighter and stronger now, even though the kiss comes out sloppy and awkward—mostly because of Naruto inexperience and confusion; but it doesn’t ruin anything, on the contrary.

Naruto suffocates, trying to keep up, and everything is burning inside him—he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, unlike the last time; or maybe he just didn’t think then, relying only on his instincts.

And now he doesn’t need to think too, but he just can’t get all these stupid thoughts out of his head.

Kakuzu suddenly stops, and Naruto doesn’t hold back a disappointed moan, reaches to kiss him again; but Kakuzu doesn’t let him, instead takes his face into his hands, caresses slowly, moving down to his neck.

Naruto closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. It feels good, but not enough; he wants Kakuzu to kiss him; and he does—but not like this, only lightly pressing his lips against Naruto’s cheek, then kissing the corner of his mouth, without touching his lips.

Naruto shivers under his touch—it’s still not enough.

He wraps his arms around Kakuzu’s neck, buries his fingers in his long hair—forgetting that he was told not to, though Kakuzu doesn’t object now for some reason. He holds him by the shoulders firmly, pushes him down onto the bed, keeps kissing his face gently—and it’s good, but Naruto wants more, stronger.

Partly in retaliation, partly—because he wants him to feel good too, Naruto kisses him, at first lightly, barely touching, then—one more time, longer, deeper, feeling him shiver.

“Naruto,” Kakuzu looks at him strangely, but doesn’t push him away—yet.

Naruto runs his hands along his shoulders, his back—feels the cool surface of the masks beneath his fingers, so contrasting with the heat of his skin. Somewhat confused by the lack of reaction, he still puts a hand on Kakuzu’s chest, feeling his heart beat fast.

And then Kakuzu pulls away, grips his hands, not letting him touch him.

Naruto looks at him, puzzled. “Did I do something wrong?” He might have—not like he has any experience.

“You’re doing fine,” Kakuzu lets go of him, but Naruto doesn’t dare touch him again, instead just lowering his hands. “But I prefer to keep the situation under control.”

“I don’t mind that,” Naruto feels himself blushing yet again. “I just want to... touch you, too.”

“There’s no need to,” he chuckles lightly.

Naruto would argue—and he even opens his mouth to object, but Kakuzu silences him with a kiss. And then Naruto has no strength or desire left to argue—not when Kakuzu makes him turn on his stomach, presses against him from behind, holding firmly.

He whispers quietly, but clearly, “Hush.” His breath burns the skin, and all the thoughts disappear, lost in this haze.

Naruto arches, trying to move, but Kakuzu keeps him in place, gripping his thighs firmly, and his hands seem impossibly hot.

“Please,” Naruto barely manages to say, “please.”

Kakuzu doesn’t rush to move, kisses the back of his neck, his shoulder, runs his hands along his torso—from below upward and down again—and these almost innocent touches still make Naruto lose his mind.

“Don’t move,” he presses his lips against his shoulder again. “It might hurt, idiot. Wait.”

Naruto doesn’t want to wait—he can’t, but he also can’t do anything; he only closes his eyes, breathing raggedly, focusing on the way Kakuzu is kissing him, repeats mentally— _please_.

When he finally starts moving, unexpectedly sharp pleasure makes Naruto shiver—he didn’t even think it would feel _that_ good.

“Alright?” Kakuzu asks hoarsely, pushes inside him again, and Naruto feels as if static goes through him.

“Y-yes,” he doesn’t hold back a moan, “yes— like this...”

At first, Kakuzu moves slowly—so slowly that Naruto thinks he won’t handle it, but then he finally quickens his pace, and Naruto doesn’t think of anything anymore—only _how good_ and _more_. Pressing his face into the bed, he clutches the bedsheet in his fingers—pleasure spreads through his body like a wave of heat, and he can barely even moan—only breathe heavily.  
Just a little more—seems like it can’t get any better but then turns out that it can; Naruto desperately wants to touch himself, but Kakuzu firmly holds his hands, not letting him do that.

With an effort, Naruto rises up on his elbows and turns his head back—it’s not too comfortable to kiss in such position, but still so good; and even better is the way Kakuzu breathes out his name, in a low hoarse voice— _Naruto_ —and presses his lips against his once more.

It’s too much of everything—sensations, emotions—and Naruto has trouble perceiving the reality, and his vision darkens for a few moments when the orgasm finally hits him, and it seems stronger than the first time—maybe it is, maybe it’s how it should be; all that Naruto can focus on is Kakuzu’s voice repeating his name, while he almost can’t even breathe, only shuddering.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Naruto asks uncertainly.

Kakuzu half-opens his eyes, looking at him intently—he seems so unusually calm now and his eyes are so warm. “What is there to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” Naruto immediately feels at a loss. “Well... what happens next?”

“It depends on you.” Kakuzu reaches out, lightly stroking his face. “What do you want?”

Naruto doesn’t think twice before replying, “I want to stay with you.”

“Unexpected.”

Kakuzu looks at the ceiling—it’s as if he doesn’t want to look Naruto in the eyes, and, frankly, Naruto can relate to that. It’s not like he doesn’t want to meet his gaze; he’s just afraid—or maybe too shy.

It’s all happening too fast to be right, but it _feels_ right.

“What’s so unexpected, you’re so...” Naruto trails off, trying to find the right word.

“ _So_?”

Naruto closes his eyes and rubs his forehead furiously—it’s too complicated.

“I can’t... don’t know how to say all these things. But... it was great. And—I like you, a lot.”

“Like me,” Kakuzu repeats thoughtfully.

There’s something strange in his voice again, and Naruto doesn’t understand what he’s thinking about.

Maybe Naruto said something stupid again—probably; after all, it’s early for such words—but it really is what he feels.

So he says stubbornly, “Yes, I like you,” trying not to pay attention at the heat coming to his face. “I wouldn’t have... all that... if I didn’t.”

Kakuzu turns to him again, looks at him with the same warmth in his eyes—and Naruto thinks he’s smiling a little, though it might be just a trick of light.

And though he doesn’t say anything, the way he looks at Naruto is enough.

***

They haven’t seen each other for a while—a month, to be exact, and it felt like a whole year to Naruto. He understood, of course, that they wouldn’t be able to meet every day or even regularly, with their lives being so unpredictable; but it still was hard.

Today, they’re lucky to end up in the same town during a mission. And Naruto is, frankly, surprised when he sees Kakuzu—doesn’t even recognize him at first.

Well, it’s an understandable precaution, but he looks so different—using the transformation technique, Naruto realizes after a few seconds. His features remain unchanged, but it’s still weird seeing him without the stitches and scars. Though it is one of the most notable things about Kakuzu, so if someone’s looking for him now, he won’t stand out as much.

They walk down the street, talking about essentially nothing—they both have their secrets, after all—and all the while Naruto just can’t look away from him.

“What are you staring at?” Kakuzu finally asks, probably annoyed by such close attention.

“You look really, uh...” Naruto shakes his head, forgetting what he even wanted to say, and decides to just be straightforward. “I like you! But I think I like the real you more,” he adds after a while.

Kakuzu only chuckles at that and turns away.

Naruto quickens his pace to keep up with him—they’re walking side by side now, and Naruto for some reason thinks of holding his hand, but—it would _really_ look dumb. So he asks instead, hoping to ease the sudden tension a bit, “You promised to tell me about your scars, remember?”

“They’re a result of the forbidden jutsu I used on myself,” Kakuzu replies dryly, without much detail.

“The masks, too?” Naruto persists, hoping to get an actual explanation; he’s been wondering for a while, after all.

“Yes.”

Now it actually seems like he doesn’t want to talk about it, and Naruto wonders why.

But then he thinks he gets it.

“You don’t want to give me an advantage? In case...” Naruto doesn’t finish, but Kakuzu nods. “But I can tell you something about myself too! So it’ll be fair.”

And he really would, but Kakuzu stops him with a gesture. “No. It’s better if we leave it like this.”

“Not knowing anything about each other?” Naruto mutters, somewhat disappointed. He can understand being cautious, but still...

“You can ask whatever you want,” Kakuzu says after a while of silence. “But I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“I figured as much,” Naruto huffs. They could probably get into an argument, and a part of him does feel offended— _so you don’t trust me?—_ but he doesn’t want to.

It’s obvious that it’s difficult for Kakuzu to fully trust people, and it’s probably Naruto who is a fool by trusting him so much already.

So Naruto just stops, and when Kakuzu stops as well, somewhat confused, he hugs him tightly. They stay like this for a while; Naruto says nothing, enjoying the closeness, and it’s as if the tension finally disappears.

Even the fact that Kakuzu pushes him away after a few seconds doesn’t change that—after all, he’s always like this.

It’s so strange, really; that he often hugs and touches Naruto casually but distances himself almost every time Naruto acts first. Naruto doesn’t ask him about it—mostly because he doesn’t know how to approach this topic.

Though now Kakuzu doesn’t seem as annoyed. He looks... _happy_ probably wouldn’t be the right word, but more relaxed than usual. And though he’s not saying it, Naruto thinks he’s glad to be with him today.

_And maybe not just today._

Naruto really wants to kiss him—and he does just that, quickly pressing his lips against his, just a light touch—only to express what he can’t put into words.

“What’s gotten into you?” Kakuzu turns away, trying to appear unfazed, but Naruto still catches a weird emotion in his eyes.

“Do I need a reason to kiss you?” Naruto throws his arms around his shoulders, pulling him a little closer. “I thought I didn’t have to ask for permission?”

“You don’t have to.” Kakuzu still doesn’t meet his gaze, but from the tone of his voice it’s clear that he _is_ a little flustered, and it’s weirdly endearing. “What an idiot.”

Naruto laughs and leans forward to kiss him again; his own boldness surprises him—when has he started to think of it as something completely natural?

For some reason, right now Naruto suddenly feels like it’s not enough—his touch, his embrace, his firm yet strangely tender kisses—just to feel him near.

Kakuzu looks at him, somewhat surprised. “What is it?”

Well, yes, maybe Naruto doesn’t usually behave like that.

But now... Naruto can’t explain it himself, only snuggles closer to him.

Maybe he’s just missed him too much.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I just... thought that maybe this won’t last long. You and me... I thought—what if I woke up tomorrow, and it all was just a dream?”

“Stop saying nonsense.” Kakuzu pushes him away gently, looks at him seriously—and Naruto’s strange anxiety almost fades.

Not completely, it’s still there in the background, but he feels better—and perhaps a little more certain.

“You’re not... going to just leave, are you?” Naruto asks carefully. “I mean... do you need me?”

He can’t help but ask, even though he knows that Kakuzu doesn’t like talking about this—about _feelings_ —to be honest, Naruto thought for some time that he didn’t even feel anything towards him. After all, their meetings usually didn’t last long and came down to just one thing; and Naruto wasn’t sure if there was anything more. It took him a while to understand it wasn’t true—Kakuzu just doesn’t say it, but his actions do a good job of conveying it.

And Naruto can speak for both of them—and it doesn’t matter that it’s a bit embarrassing, someone should—and Naruto wants Kakuzu to know that he’s important to him.

He also wants to know this—there’s no need to repeat it constantly, it’d be enough for him to hear it just one time.

Though now, instead of replying, Kakuzu takes his hand—and kisses it.

Just like that, he kisses his palm, warm lips lightly brushing his skin, and acts like it’s nothing unusual.

“What are you— what are you doing?” Naruto can’t help but blush, staring at him in surprise—but doesn’t move away.

Not knowing why—he definitely didn’t expect this. Kakuzu likes touching him—in different ways, and kissing him, too; but kissing his _hands_ —it’s something in between ‘strange’ and ‘romantic’, and Naruto probably leans to the former.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Kakuzu looks up at him intently.

But definitely not ‘uncomfortable’; and Naruto replies hastily, “No!” and falls silent immediately, embarrassed by his own reaction. “I-I mean... it’s so... oh,” he shudders when Kakuzu suddenly nuzzles his hand. “ _What_ are you doing?” he asks desperately, feeling his face burn—he probably can’t get any redder at this point.

What’s most surprising is the fact that Kakuzu seems to want Naruto to touch him now, even though he usually dislikes it.

“I like your hands,” Kakuzu says matter-of-factly.

Naruto isn’t sure, but it seems like he’s smiling.

“You’re... you’re weird,” he finally manages. “You know that you’re really weird?”

“Perhaps.” This time, Kakuzu really smiles, kissing his fingers _—and what did Naruto say, turns out he can actually blush more_.

“Should I stop?” Kakuzu asks, unusually soft, noticing his confusion.

Naruto shakes his head.

“No, you can... well, you can go on— if you want to.”

Kakuzu does go on, kissing his fingers, his palm, his wrist—only barely touching the skin, and it feels stronger than anything else. There’s a strange intimacy in this, really connecting them.

_And, perhaps, speaking about feelings better than any words possibly could._

Naruto frees his hand, slowly strokes Kakuzu’s face; and he leans into the touch, closing his eyes, grips Naruto’s wrist lightly—but firmly enough to understand that he doesn’t want to let go.

And he doesn’t move away, like last time—allowing Naruto to touch him too, even if it’s so insignificant.

Naruto probably shouldn’t expect something more yet, but still, it’s his small victory.

Kakuzu smiles again, calm and relaxed. Naruto hasn’t seen this kind of smile on his face before—the most he’d do was grin occasionally.

Naruto likes seeing him this way the most.

***

“Hands to yourself,” just like always, and Naruto obeys, even though he wants to do something in return—but that’s just how it is.

Kakuzu kisses him briefly, lips brushing along his cheek, his jawline—lightly, but so gently. He does seem to really like kissing him for some reason; Naruto doesn’t understand why but doesn’t object—to be honest, he couldn’t even if he wanted to.

A pleasant shiver runs through his body as Kakuzu kisses his neck, biting the skin just a little—and again, a little lower. A thought flickers in his clouded mind—there’ll probably be noticeable marks left; but Naruto even likes this thought.

“Don’t rush,” Kakuzu whispers barely audibly when Naruto doesn’t hold back a moan, trying to press closer.

He really is taking it slow today—last time everything happened rather quickly, and now Naruto can’t help but think that Kakuzu is exploring his body, noting all the reactions—what he likes more. And it’s great, but Naruto still finds it unfair that he’s only focused on his pleasure.

Though he feels too good now to object.

Kakuzu moves lower, settling between his spread legs, and Naruto shivers a little, feeling long hair tickle his stomach. He inhales sharply, wanting Kakuzu to do something—but not expecting him to do _this_.

He flinches, more from surprise than anything else, as unusually sharp flash of pleasure surges through his body, knocking all thoughts out of his head for a moment.

Kakuzu moves away—Naruto stifles a disappointed sob because he didn’t actually want him to stop—and looks at him questioningly.

“What’s wrong?” he doesn’t sound irritated at all, only concerned. “You don’t like it like this?”

“I don’t even know how,” Naruto takes a few deep breaths to calm down, but fails miserably at that. “I’m just... not... at all... and you— so... you,” he chokes on another breath and goes silent, shutting his eyes.

“I won’t even pretend to understand.”

Kakuzu rises, reaches out to touch his hand, and Naruto forces himself to look at him again.

“It’s alright,” Kakuzu grins gently, almost reassuringly.

Naruto nods awkwardly—and almost immediately throws his head back, gasping for air.

He’s gripping Kakuzu’s hand tightly, even now somehow remembering that he doesn’t like to have his hair touched; but this is probably the only conscious thought in his mind.

Strangely enough, Kakuzu seems to enjoy it as well—or perhaps just enjoying Naruto’s reaction.

His mouth is so hot, and it feels so—Naruto exhales loudly, eyes shut so tight that he almost sees sparks. He thinks he moans, maybe says something, but he doesn’t even realize what, overwhelmed by all the sensations.

Naruto does try to push Kakuzu away when he feels he’s close, but to no avail, and maybe he’s fine with that—and in the next moment, when pleasure comes over him, Naruto just can’t think of anything anymore.

Still slightly shaking, Naruto breathes hard while Kakuzu strokes his hair and kisses his face slowly. He’s silent, and Naruto is silent too—he needs to catch his breath, and no words come to mind anyway. He only hugs Kakuzu tighter—at least he doesn’t mind that.

“Alright?” he asks finally, moving away and looking Naruto in the eye.

Naruto nods and laughs awkwardly.

“I’m just... not used to it. Well, you’ve... never done that before.”

“As if there were a lot of ‘before’,” Kakuzu grumbles, but the amusement in his eyes gives him away.

“And you? Do you want me to, like... uh...” Naruto trails off, feeling he’s probably completely embarrassing himself now.

Kakuzu chuckles quietly. “I’m good.”

He takes Naruto’s hand and brings it to his lips, leaving a light kiss on his wrist.

Naruto stares at him, confused—and then shuts his eyes, his face probably a deep shade of red. Kakuzu chuckles again, seeming amused by his reaction, but says nothing. It’s like it’s perfectly normal—but maybe it is, it’s not like Naruto is exactly experienced in all this.

Kakuzu moves in to kiss him lightly, just barely brushing his lips over Naruto’s, and pulls away to look at him. He’s so close, and Naruto has this impulse—and doesn’t want to hold back.

“Can I?” he reaches out, touches his face with trembling fingers. Surprisingly, Kakuzu doesn’t mind now, only tilts his head to the side, the corner of his lips twitching up a bit. Naruto strokes his cheek, brushing away his disheveled hair, runs his fingers along the stitches; and such closeness makes his heart skip a beat—maybe because he _lets_ him.

“Enough.” Kakuzu carefully grips his hand, forcing it away, and Naruto obeys, though not without regret. He doesn’t want to be too... intrusive? or make him uncomfortable.

“But why, though,” he only mutters, feeling extremely awkward.

Instead of replying, Kakuzu again kisses his hand lightly, as if apologizing.

He doesn’t explain anything, but Naruto thinks he understands. He probably still doesn’t fully trust him—what did he say, _‘I prefer to keep things under control’_? Maybe he’s still waiting for some catch. Even if there’s none.

And Naruto firmly decides that he’ll prove to Kakuzu that he can be trusted.

Still half-asleep, Naruto feels Kakuzu rise up to leave—and manages to grab his hand in time, stopping him.

“Naruto,” he sighs wearily. “I have to go.”

“No,” Naruto mutters, squeezing his hand tighter. “Stay. Just a little more?”

“A little more.” Kakuzu gives up—somehow, he can never refuse Naruto’s requests. He lies down next to him again, holding him close, and Naruto smiles. “I really have to leave.”

Naruto understands; to be honest, he also should hurry back, but right now he doesn’t want to think about any of that. He only wants to stay with Kakuzu—for as long as possible.

It’s so warm and calm in his arms that Naruto doesn’t even notice how he falls asleep again—but he still hears Kakuzu say quietly, barely audibly, “I’d like to stay longer.”

But maybe Naruto just thinks he hears it.

He wakes up alone—and it seems that Kakuzu left quite a while ago.

Morning turned into day, and Naruto is impossibly late—he’s almost sure that he’ll have a lot of explaining to do to Sakura and Kakashi-sensei. They’ve certainly noticed how long he was gone. It’ll be good if neither of them shares it with Tsunade, who definitely won’t turn a blind eye to what’s happening.

Naruto doesn’t even know what excuse to make; his absence must be looking extremely suspicious.

“Hey, Sakura-chan,” Naruto smiles awkwardly, not daring to approach her.

Contrary to his expectations, she’s not angry—more worried.

“Where have you been, Naruto?”

“It’s... uh, it’s personal?” he says awkwardly.

Sakura’s skeptical look tells him how absurd this excuse is, but he can’t come up with anything better. And perhaps it’s better not to tell anything than make up ridiculous lies and get caught up in them later.

“Right,” she says. “Just like with that guy who you were ‘just talking to’? I remember.”

Naruto flushes but says nothing, only looking away. It really was a wonder she let it slide that day a while back—when she caught a glimpse of them together—and didn’t mention it to anyone. Not that Naruto didn’t trust Sakura—he did; but if she found out that Kakuzu was a criminal, she probably wouldn’t be so accepting.

“You’ve been disappearing a lot lately. I hope you’re not doing anything stupid.”

_Sakura-chan, you can’t even imagine what I’m doing—and don’t intend on stopping any time soon._

Naruto only smiles nervously, and Sakura gives in with a sigh.

“It’s really not like you, Naruto,” she says. “It’s great if you... like someone,” she stutters a bit, seeming embarrassed, “but... who even is he? Is he a shinobi too? From Suna? Other village?”

Naruto doesn’t want to say too much, but he’s never been good at lying or hiding something.

“Taki,” he mutters, still not facing her. This isn’t even a lie—he just doesn’t say that Kakuzu left his village a long time ago.

Sakura’s expression softens—as if this tiny bit of information has somehow calmed her. She still doesn’t look like she approves of Naruto’s behavior, but at least decides to stop with the questions. For now, Naruto is sure; she’ll try to learn more, and perhaps he’ll have to tell her one day.

But he hopes this day will never come.

***

“You know,” Naruto says, laying his head on Kakuzu’s shoulder, “everything could have been different.”

“It couldn’t have, you idiot.” Kakuzu ruffles his hair lightly, almost gently—which contrasts with the harsh words.

Naruto frowns, to stubborn to back down.

“You can’t be so sure.”

“Prove me otherwise.” It’s barely noticeable, but Kakuzu grins.

“If from the beginning we... You could have come to Konoha with me, left the Akatsuki,” Naruto says in one breath. “We’d have fought together, and during the war, too. And then... then...”

_We could have been happy._

“Sounds great,” sarcasm is clear in his voice. “But you’re forgetting that even without the Akatsuki I was a criminal wanted across the nations. As soon as I’d stepped foot in Konoha, I would’ve been interrogated and killed immediately after.”

“No!” Naruto objects, but not as certain anymore. “I wouldn’t have let anyone kill you.”

“Would they have listened to you?”

Naruto understands—they wouldn’t have. And it’s pointless to try and guess what _could have been_ —he can’t change anything.

“See,” Kakuzu says. “In any case, it wasn’t what you needed.”

“You know me so well, I see,” Naruto mutters. “Then what do you think I needed?”

“The title of Hokage. Your perfect family.” He looks intently into his eyes, and Naruto averts his gaze. Does he have to remind him—to cut so deep? “You have a perfect family, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Naruto says, not without a treacherous pause which makes his face burn. “But it could’ve been great with you, too.”

_Could’ve been—better._

Kakuzu doesn’t reply to that. He only hugs Naruto tightly, making him shudder from the surge of cold—but Naruto doesn’t move, hugging him back, and says nothing too—doesn’t know what.

“What an idiot you are,” Kakuzu whispers barely audibly. “Didn’t grow up at all.”

“But that’s the way you love me,” Naruto doesn’t think before saying this—words just escape his lips on their own, and when he realizes what he said, he immediately bites his tongue.

But it’s too late.

Kakuzu doesn’t comment on this but tenses visibly; just for a moment, but still.

Naruto understands he accidentally got it right—and smiles.

But this smile is strained and bitter.

Naruto loves him too—so much it hurts, so much that without him he hasn’t lived all these years—only existed.

Naruto should say it—but he’s silent, like _that time._

_When he could have saved him, could have at least tried to do something—but instead he watched helplessly as Kakashi-sensei dealt the final blow._


	4. Chapter 4

“You won’t touch him,” Kakuzu says, seemingly calm, although Naruto senses the rage in him.

But it’s not what bothers Naruto now—he looks at the red clouds on his cloak, looks and can’t believe what he sees.

_Akatsuki._

It’d be one thing if Kakuzu was simply a missing-nin—but the fact that he’s from the Akatsuki should change everything.

It should—but it doesn’t.

Because now Kakuzu is shielding him from his partner, _protecting_ him—and in this moment Naruto understands that he really can trust him.

Sakura, standing slightly behind them, clutches her fists nervously, not knowing whether to attack, run or just wait. Naruto isn’t going to run if it comes to a fight, so he waits.

“What the hell, Kakuzu, it’s the jinchūriki!” the other man begins but doesn’t manage to finish as Kakuzu’s hand goes right through his chest.

Naruto can’t help but flinch; not that he’s not used to violence, but the ease and coldness with which Kakuzu kills his partner is... surprising.

But he’s doing this to protect Naruto, goes against orders, perhaps some beliefs of his—

“Why?” Naruto asks, looking at him in confusion.

Kakuzu turns around, and without any words embraces him, holding firmly, and his fingers, wet with blood, entwine in Naruto’s hair. He’s tense, and his heart is beating rapidly for some reason—and though he doesn’t say anything, it’s as if he was... frightened for Naruto.

Naruto isn’t sure, but it feels like this.

He didn’t think he was that important to him.

“Wait a second...” it’s hard to tell if Sakura is surprised, angry or both at once. “What does this mean?”

Naruto forces himself to move away, turns to Sakura—and guiltily lower his head, meeting her gaze.

“Sakura-chan, it’s not what you...”

“It’s exactly what you’re thinking,” Kakuzu interrupts him.

Naruto shrugs awkwardly but nods—and, honestly, Sakura’s expression would seem funny at any other time, but now it’s more frightening.

“Uzumaki Naruto...” Sakura begins almost gently, but then shouts, “What the hell are you doing, you idiot?”

What can he say? Naruto doesn’t know, he just can’t find the words to explain. He isn’t even sure that Sakura will understand—she should, but it depends on what Naruto tells her.

Right now she’s looking at him as though she’s ready to punch him—not that Naruto doesn’t deserve it, but still, he doesn’t want to test her strength.

“Well, I...” Naruto stutters, and his entire confidence disappears.

Sakura keeps looking at him—and damn, Naruto isn’t ready to have this conversation.

“Please, Sakura-chan,” he asks. “Let me speak with Kakuzu first, and then I’ll tell you everything, okay?”

“Not _okay_ ,” she hisses but sighs and rubs her forehead wearily. “Just be quick—and trust me, I have _a lot_ of questions.”

Naruto doesn’t doubt it—just like the fact that he’ll have to answer them all.

“You’re with the Akatsuki,” Naruto says.

Stating the obvious for some reason—he just doesn’t know how else to begin.

“And you’re a jinchūriki.”

Kakuzu seems surprisingly calm, and Naruto isn’t sure if he’s even slightly concerned by what happened.

“You knew?”

It’s so strange that he’s hardly shocked.

“If I did, I’d have taken you to the Leader after we first met. No, I couldn’t even think of such a thing—but later I began to suspect.”

“Then why... didn’t you do anything?”

Kakuzu turns away for a moment.

“I got too... used to you.”

It doesn’t sound all that affectionate, but Naruto thinks he means much more by that.

“And... what now?” Naruto asks carefully, touching his shoulder.

“Nothing.” Kakuzu forces his hand away but grips it lightly; and Naruto smiles, already used to his weirdness. “Why should anything change?”

“But the Akatsuki... you need the jinchūriki. You don’t care about the orders?”

“I didn’t join the Akatsuki because I cared about their goals. And yes,” he looks at Naruto intently. “To hell with the orders. I won’t harm you. Nobody will—as long as I’m alive.”

There’s an unusual determination in his eyes which almost scares Naruto. But he’s not scared of Kakuzu—but of what might happen if...

If he really has to protect Naruto like today.

Naruto doesn’t want anything to happen to him.

“Come on,” he licks his suddenly dry lips. “I can protect myself.”

Just like always, when he doesn’t want to continue the conversation, Kakuzu pulls him closer and kisses him. Naruto gives in, realizing that arguing is pointless—he only hugs him tighter, responding to the kiss.

But still the irrational fear doesn’t leave, because everything becomes too serious, too real.

And even if things worked out now, who knows what happens next.

Naruto doesn’t like admitting his fear—but there’s no sense in lying to himself.

He’s not certain at all.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto lowers his head and immediately flinches when Sakura slaps the back of his head with an open palm. It’s not painful but tangible—and shows her _disappointment_ in him.

“What were you thinking,” Sakura hisses through her gritted teeth. “I always knew you were dumb, Naruto, but _this_ dumb? You’re... you’re _dating_ a member of the Akatsuki! I can’t believe it.”

Naruto doesn’t really have an excuse—and _feelings_ shouldn’t be an excuse for a shinobi. It’s stupid, it’s been a bad idea from the start—but Naruto can’t end this now.

He’s become too attached to Kakuzu to do that; though if he decided to end their relationship—it feels so strange thinking that—Kakuzu would let him go.

But that would make them enemies without a doubt, and Naruto doesn’t want that—he won’t be able to consider him an enemy.

Won’t be able to hate him, like the rest of the Akatsuki, and won’t be able to fight him even if one day he’ll have to.

It’s too late to change something—Naruto knows he’s in too deep.

“You must end this,” Sakura says firmly.

And the way she looks at him makes it clear that she won’t accept any objections, but Naruto still objects.

“I can’t,” he says. “You don’t understand, Sakura-chan.”

“ _I_ don’t understand?” she explodes. “What is there to understand, Naruto? He’s an _enemy!_ From the Akatsuki! Hell, they all dream of capturing you and taking the bijū! Naruto!”

“If Kakuzu wanted to, he had a ton of opportunities to capture me,” Naruto says stubbornly. “He killed his partner to protect me! Isn’t that proof—”

“No!” Sakura flares up again, and it almost seems like she’s about to punch him—but she doesn’t. “How can you be such a stubborn fool,” she groans instead. “Just what should I do with you?”

“Nothing,” Naruto takes her hand cautiously; she flinches but doesn’t push him away. “Sakura-chan, just don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Sakura presses her lips, frowns, thinking—it’s obvious that she’s struggling between the desire to do the right thing and to help Naruto.

To be honest, Naruto will understand if she doesn’t agree. He has no right to ask her about something like this. He doesn’t know what to do in this case, but he’ll think of something.

“...Okay,” Sakura exhales finally. “I’ll regret it, but... okay.” And she asks quickly, averting her eyes, “So... you love him, then?”

This question takes Naruto aback—he doesn’t know how to respond. He certainly cares for Kakuzu, but ‘love’ seems to be too strong of a word. On the other hand, if it was just an... attraction, Naruto wouldn’t take _such_ risk.

“I think,” Naruto closes his eyes, trying to calm his heartbeat, “I think I do.”

Sakura grips his hand, shakes her head disapprovingly; but at the same time there’s understanding in her eyes.

And really, who could have understood him better than Sakura? After all, she herself was ready to leave the village with Sasuke, only he didn’t want to take her with him.

Naruto thinks that this parallel between them is a little funny, and even funnier is the fact that he’s not jealous of Sakura anymore.

Maybe he never loved her _like that_ —only as a friend.

And Sakura is a great friend, Naruto really should appreciate her more; he didn’t hope she truly would cover for him.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “Thanks, Sakura-chan, I...”

She waves him off, not wanting to listen, and smiles slightly, still nervously, but tries to reassure him.

“It’s... no, it’s _not_ okay, but I’m here for you, Naruto. No matter what happens. Always.”

***

Naruto thinks he’s never seen Kakuzu so mad; and he doesn’t understand what happened and what is wrong. He doesn’t dare ask immediately, though, waiting for him to calm down; it seems like he’ll just kill Naruto if he does something.

Kakuzu punches the wall hard, leaving cracks on it—and blood; and this isn’t something Naruto can watch silently.

“Hey, what happened?” He takes a step closer, trying to look into his eyes. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about.”

“I worry about you,” Naruto says stubbornly. “Tell me? You’ll feel better.”

“Just a failed mission,” Kakuzu doesn’t face him, “just that idiot Hidan who messed everything up _again_.”

“Hidan?” Naruto asks; an unfamiliar name tells him nothing. “Who’s that?”

“My partner,” Kakuzu almost spits, slamming his fist into the wall again.

Naruto catches his wrist, hoping to calm him at least a little, strokes his hand. Beneath his fingers he feels grazed skin and blood, and it feels somewhat frightening—this evidence of an unexpected breakdown. It’s not that Naruto hasn’t ever seen Kakuzu get mad or annoyed with something, but usually he always managed to keep his cool.

But maybe whatever happened really got to him this time—or maybe it was just too much of everything. Kakuzu never told him about the work he did for the Akatsuki, and Naruto never asked—when they met, they left everything else behind, even if for a short time.

Either way, Naruto knows that a lot can happen; and he knows how it is to feel exhausted and stressed to the point you have to force yourself to go on.  
And not a lot of people know how hard it is for him to sometimes keep this smile on.

Kakuzu does—and Naruto really appreciates that he doesn’t need to pretend with him.

Surprisingly, his attempt works somewhat. Kakuzu exhales slowly, visibly relaxing.

“Didn’t you kill your partner... well, then?” Naruto asks.

“My _new_ partner,” Kakuzu explains, calmer now. “He’s even more unbearable than the last one. I’d love to kill him, but... alas.”

“You can’t solve all problems just by getting rid of people, ’ttebayo!”

“Why not?”

Naruto wants to argue but holds back, knowing that it won’t lead anywhere; and he really doesn’t want to start an argument.

“Then what’s stopping you from killing him?” he asks instead.

“He’s immortal,” Kakuzu replies.

“Immortal?”

It seems impossible—can a person be truly _immortal_? Orochimaru comes to mind; but he never reached true immortality.

Kakuzu only nods, clearly not intending to go into details. Naruto doesn’t force him; he’d like to learn more, but he understands that Kakuzu already tells him too much.

Naruto isn’t sure he deserves such trust, but he appreciates it.

“Well, that’s not so bad,” he says. “I mean... I thought that something really terrible had happened.”

Kakuzu grins wryly but doesn’t respond.

Naruto does the first thing that comes to mind—probably the only thing he can do—hugs him.

“Don’t think about it. Think positive, ’ttebayo.”

“What positives do you see here?” Kakuzu moves away slightly, and Naruto gets the hint, letting go.

“Life isn’t some horrible nightmare,” he smiles. “Well... we’re together, and that’s good, right?”

Kakuzu pauses before replying but finally says, “Yes. It is.”

Naruto can’t help but smile wider upon hearing this.

“See. So forget about all that, okay?”

“Idiot,” contrary to what he’s saying, his voice sounds almost tender.

“Just the way I am,” Naruto shrugs, chuckling. “Come here.”

He hugs him again, and this time Kakuzu returns the embrace, holding him close. They stay like this for a while, and Naruto can’t stop smiling for some reason.

“Sorry,” Kakuzu says quietly. “I’m just tired.”

“It’s alright,” Naruto replies softly.

He thinks that it’s the first time he sees Kakuzu like this—the first time he’s ever allowed himself to show some weakness, like a normal person. And this, too, is an expression of trust, showing that Naruto is allowed a little more than others.

“How are you?” Naruto moves away a little, looking him in the eye.

Kakuzu shrugs; but he does look better, not like he’s at the verge of breakdown, and it’s good.

Naruto reaches to touch his hair, ignoring the annoyed glance, asks,

“Can I?” Even though he already is tangling his fingers in the soft strands.

It has become sort of a habit—or even addiction, but Naruto really likes his hair, likes touching it, and the fact that he rarely gets to do that only makes him want it more.

At first he thinks Kakuzu wants to object or simply push him away, but for some reason he only closes his eyes, not moving.

Almost for the first time he lets Naruto do this without protests, and it makes a pleasant shiver run down his spine. Even though they’ve been... _together_ for a while—it sounds so weird—Kakuzu still has some troubles with trust, which is understandable. But Naruto seems to be slowly getting through his walls.

“And why are you doing this?” Kakuzu really doesn’t look mad anymore now; it’s just his usual attitude towards everything and everyone around.

Which doesn’t apply to Naruto—talking to him, Kakuzu always speaks a little softer. It’s not that apparent, but noticeable.

“I just like it,” Naruto shrugs, strokes his cheek lightly and returns to his hair. “Though what I don’t get is... are you really uncomfortable when I do this? You react like this all the time...”

Kakuzu thinks for a while before shaking his head.

“I’m not used to things like that.”

“Hm,” Naruto drawls, “but you like it? Now?”

“No.”

Slightly disappointed, Naruto removes his hands, but Kakuzu grabs him by the wrists.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he moves a little closer, lips brushing against Naruto’s cheek. “If _you_ like it, I don’t mind.”

***

“Naruto.”

Naruto stares into the distance, unable to find it in himself to face her. Sakura sighs quietly and shifts slightly closer to him.   
Her presence would be comforting, but it’s not; it’s just not enough to distract him of what’s going on. Especially since he knows what Sakura wants to talk about.

“I really don’t recognize you lately,” she says. “And I don’t understand why you suddenly remembered what happened so long ago. Everything has been great...”

Naruto doesn’t know what to say. For the first time in years, he feels such strange emptiness inside him—just like then; and it’s as though this void has never been filled.

“Perhaps it hasn’t,” he finally says, his voice but a hoarse whisper. He clears his throat and continues, still not looking at Sakura, “Perhaps it’s not the life I wanted.” And somehow it’s only now that he’s thinking of that.

“Don’t tell me you’ve hit middle age crisis,” Sakura jokes, but it doesn’t come out exactly funny. And Naruto almost wants to tell her—but he’s too afraid of what might happen if she knows.

“Maybe,” he says instead. “I don’t know. Do you not have anything you would’ve changed in your life?” He turns to Sakura, and she gives him a long, strange look before replying.

“Perhaps I do. There are things I would have done differently if I could. There are people I would have saved.” She sighs, and Naruto feels yet another surge of guilt go through him. “But that’s the point, Naruto,” Sakura’s voice sounds steady when she speaks again. “We can’t change the past. We can’t bring back those we’ve lost. We have to move on and live happily, like they would have wanted us to. Even though it’s hard.”

“Even harder than you make it sound,” Naruto averts his eyes again, and feels Sakura touch his arm comfortingly.

It’s not the first time they speak about this. And it’s not the first time Sakura expects answers from him—answers he won’t be able to give. She can’t know. No one can know. And it’s not even so much about the potential threat—it’s because no one will be able to help.

And there’s no point in revealing the truth now, in hurting Hinata—even more than he already has.

Whatever brought Kakuzu to life, or a semblance of it, probably won’t last long.

Naruto doesn’t want to think of it; the thought of losing him again is too painful.

And deep inside he hopes that he’s wrong, that it’s really his chance to make things right.

But he’s lost that chance long ago.

“Hey,” Sakura says, changing the topic rather abruptly, “You know that Himawari has asked me to teach her medical ninjutsu?”

Naruto rubs his forehead, exhaling quietly. “Yes... I know.”

“And she’s doing great.”

“Yes,” Naruto repeats. “She must be. She’s really capable.”

With shame, he realizes that he only vaguely remembers Himawari mentioning this—did she tell him the details? Did she want to share her achievements, but he only sent her away, using the old excuse of having too much work?

“And by the way, did you notice that Boruto likes Sarada?”

“Huh? Does he?..” Naruto mutters. He hasn’t noticed anything of the sort... but has he really paid attention to such little things?

“Well, I’d say it’s pretty obvious. And also mutual, though Sarada thinks she hides it well,” Sakura chuckles—her smile is so sincerely happy. “But they’re so young, everything can change in a couple years... I just thought you knew.”

“You know that I’m not exactly the person Boruto would seek advice from,” Naruto turns away, frowning. “Especially that kind of advice.”

_He doesn’t trust me,_ he almost says.

And it hurts. Naruto has always tried to be a good father—and maybe he just wasn’t cut out for this, but he loved his children. Yet it seemed like he did a poor job of _showing_ them that he cared; distancing himself from every problem, too afraid to make it worse.

Sakura most likely reads everything in his expression and shakes her head.

“See, Naruto, that’s what I’m talking about. Don’t you care about your family?”

“I do! It’s just... I don’t know. I’m trying, but...” Naruto trails off, realizing how pathetic it sounds.

“But it doesn’t seem like that sometimes,” Sakura continues mercilessly. “You hardly ever talk with Boruto and Himawari. I can understand to an extent that... things aren’t exactly great between you and Hinata, but they’re your children, they need a father. Sasuke-kun rarely visits Konoha, but he tries to spend as much time as possible with Sarada. And with Boruto, too. I think he’s more of a father to him than you, Naruto, don’t you find this wrong?”

“Sasuke really has made a better husband and father than I,” Naruto grins painfully. “He’s always been better than me at everything—he wouldn’t have screwed up like me.”

Sakura sighs. “Sasuke-kun has made mistakes that were far more serious. But somehow it’s you who can’t let go of the past.”

“I’ve tried,” Naruto says quietly. “You know that better than anyone. I’ve tried. I thought I let it go. But I really don’t know why it’s coming back to me now.” He knows; but he can’t possibly tell her. “You’re right... in that I’m just running from problems. I’ve been doing it for so long,” he runs his hands through his hair, ruffling it violently. “I hoped that I could at least give Hinata a happy life... but it seems I failed to do that, too.”

“I don’t think so,” Sakura says, in a softer voice this time. “Families have problems, it’s normal. Hey, you know I also mess up sometimes. It’s just life. But everything will be alright, I’m sure. You just have to work towards it. Don’t put all the weight on Hinata’s shoulders, you have to do this together.”

_Together._

It seems like he and Hinata are so far apart now that they can’t possibly go back to when they were still happy.

Some part of Naruto doesn’t even want that.

But he can never have what he wants.

Naruto lowers his head, unable to look at Sakura. He feels her hand touch his hair, stroking gently, reassuringly, and hates himself even more.

If only he could go back in time; fix everything, do something differently, make a different decision; but he can’t.

And he should accept it, but he can’t do that either.

He feels completely powerless.

***

Naruto hugs Kakuzu from behind, and he tenses slightly at first—just like always. Even though Naruto is kind of used to this, it still keeps troubling him.

“Why are you always like this... I shouldn’t touch you at all?”

Kakuzu shakes his head, leaving his question unanswered; he always brushes this off as something unimportant, and Naruto never insists. But at least he squeezes Naruto’s hand lightly, and maybe it means he can go slightly further. It’s enough—the opportunity to be near him already is much more than he could hope for.

Without even thinking, Naruto leans to kiss Kakuzu, presses his lips against his cheek—and once more, meeting no objection.

Naruto wants to say something, but all the words that come to mind seem too stupid, so he just continues kissing him—before Kakuzu stops him.

Which happens rather soon.

“Stop distracting me. I’m busy,” Kakuzu says, irritated, and moves away.

Naruto looks over his shoulder, trying to see what he’s doing, and sees an open book with schematic portraits and short dossiers.

Shinobi—rough description of their abilities, distinct features—and the bounties for them.

“Picking your next target?” Naruto tries to appear indifferent, but he never liked that side of Kakuzu’s life.

It wasn’t like he could do anything about it—only accept it, and, to be honest, it wasn’t the worst.

The worst was his affiliation with the Akatsuki.

Even though Kakuzu had no intentions of harming Naruto—and he trusted him—it still complicated things.

Naruto shakes his head. He really doesn’t want to think about it now, there are many far more pleasant things.

“I have to earn money somehow,” Kakuzu replies flatly, turns the page—and Naruto catches a glimpse of a familiar face.

“Hey, that’s Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto leans closer, reading into the lines. “Wow. I didn’t think he was here. I wonder who else is.”

He doesn’t voice it but hopes that Kakashi won’t become his next target; and it seems that Kakuzu easily guesses his thoughts, though he doesn’t comment.

It’s probably for the best; a normal conversation most likely won’t come out of it.

“Definitely not you, so you needn’t worry.” Kakuzu turns to him, slightly frowning. “Don’t you understand what I’m saying? Don’t distract me.”

Still, his harsh tone softens, and he takes Naruto’s hands into his own; and really, when he does that, Naruto can’t seriously be offended or angry.

With all Kakuzu’s difficult and sometimes unbearable personality, it’s obvious that he cares about Naruto, and that’s what matters.

“Don’t you want to do something more interesting when we’re together?”

Kakuzu doesn’t let him finish, pulling him into a kiss—firm, yet still tender, and Naruto closes his eyes, responding.

The kiss breaks off too suddenly, and Naruto lets out a disappointed sigh.

“Just wait,” Kakuzu says, calmer now.

‘Just waiting’ doesn’t seem all that interesting, but Naruto doesn’t argue. He keeps watching as Kakuzu flips through the pages, sometimes making some notes. It’s even more boring that it sounds, and Naruto doesn’t bother reading, mentally counting how much time has passed.

On one of the pages he notices—or thinks he notices—someone familiar, and grabs Kakuzu’s hand.

“Go back! There’s...”

“ _Naruto_.”

“What?” Naruto looks at him, confused, then jerks his hand away. “Sorry, I just... the previous page.”

With an audible sigh, Kakuzu returns to what’s interested Naruto.

“Orochimaru.”

“And what’s so surprising to you? A lot of people want to kill him. Though so far, no one has succeeded.” Kakuzu doesn’t seem even remotely interested.

“What about you?”

“Me?” Kakuzu shrugs. “The reward is tempting, but it’s not worth it. Orochimaru is too... resourceful. In terms of strength, we’re equal, but with the range of techniques he knows... the odds are on his side. I doubt that even with Hidan there I would be able to take him on. Even if I would... again, it’s not worth it.”

“Hidan,” Naruto repeats. Somehow hearing Kakuzu mention him is a little unpleasant, but he doesn’t really understand why.

“For all his faults, he’s a capable shinobi,” Kakuzu ignores or doesn’t notice Naruto’s tone. “And his immortality is quite useful in a battle... despite him being insufferable.”

“I’d handle Orochimaru,” Naruto says randomly, just not to hear any more about Hidan. “So we could kill him—that’s one death I certainly wouldn’t regret.”

“Are you this dumb?”

“Why...” Naruto tries to argue.

Kakuzu turns to him, and unusual anger flashes in his eyes.

“Someone like you,” he says slowly, “mustn’t even approach someone like Orochimaru. Or are you so eager to die?”

Naruto is surprised by his reaction; he wasn’t really going to do that, after all, even he isn’t so reckless to think he could really win against Orochimaru—especially after having faced him a few times already. Naruto _would like_ to defeat him; but, remembering his past failures, he knows that it’s not exactly smart.  
And he probably shouldn’t mention that fact to Kakuzu now.

He most likely understands that Naruto wasn’t actually considering this, but instead of chuckling at his stupid idea and forgetting it, he acts weirdly. As though he’s... worried about him.

Naruto can’t help but smile, and Kakuzu frowns.

“What are you smiling at?” he asks stiffly. “There’s nothing remotely funny about it.”

“I wasn’t serious, Kakuzu,” Naruto takes his hand, still smiling. “I know I can’t beat him yet. And I’d probably only get in your way during a fight. You’re taking it too literally, ’ttebayo.”

Kakuzu stares at him for a while, then closes his eyes tiredly.

“You are such a fool sometimes,” he says through gritted teeth. “What am I going to do with you...”

“I have a couple ideas,” Naruto leans closer, but doesn’t dare kiss him yet, unsure if it’d be alright. “I could show you... if you’d like.”

Kakuzu doesn’t reply, instead pulling him into a kiss, deep and rough; and the way he’s gripping his hand is even a bit painful. Though he relaxes soon enough and moves away, exhaling, “You’re impossible,” before kissing him again.

Naruto closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss—this is so much better. They don’t see each other so often to waste time on arguing.

***

“Smoking again,” Naruto says with a hint of reproach, and then chuckles, seeing Kakuzu’s annoyed look. “Seriously, I don’t think even Asuma-sensei smokes that much.” Well, he’s exaggerating—it’s nearly impossible to see Asuma without a cigarette, while Kakuzu doesn’t smoke as frequently.

“Come here.” Ignoring the remark, Kakuzu gestures him to sit next to him, which Naruto eagerly does, though keeping some distance—and Kakuzu gives him a thankful look.

There are still some problems—Naruto still has to be extra mindful at times, because _personal space_ , right; but it doesn’t bother him all that much.

“I think there’s one more left in the pack,” Kakuzu says. “If you’d like.”

Naruto shakes his head—he never understood the appeal of smoking.

“No, thanks,” and he smiles. “But hey, I’m glad you’re willing to share your last cigarette with me.”

Kakuzu chuckles but doesn’t comment, only takes another drag, looking at the town before them, shrouded in morning fog. Naruto looks, too—it’s so peaceful and quiet, as if there’s no one else besides them here. In the whole world. It’s not true, of course, but Naruto likes to imagine that. He likes simply being with Kakuzu, not worrying about anything else.

A sudden gust of wind sends chills through him, and Naruto shudders, hugging himself. And almost immediately feels a heavy cloak fall on his shoulders. He looks up at Kakuzu, but he just shrugs, as if he had nothing to do with that. Naruto smiles, but still asks, “Why? I’m fine,” but falls silent under his gaze.

Only wraps himself in the cloak, enjoying the warmth.

“I think I can see why everyone wants to join the Akatsuki,” Naruto says for some reason. “You’ve got such nice cloaks and all.”

Kakuzu shakes his head, still says nothing, but his expression speaks quite clearly— _shut up already_. Naruto does shut up; to be honest, he doesn’t really want to talk. He just shifts closer to Kakuzu and smiles, feeling him put an arm around his shoulders.

It’s almost _perfect_ —even the cigarette smoke doesn’t ruin this.

When it comes to Kakuzu, Naruto is willing to put up with too many things.

“Really, tell me,” Naruto raises his head, catching his gaze, “why did you join the Akatsuki? I suppose not because you believed in their cause, or we wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

“Do you really want to talk about it?” Kakuzu exhales and throws the almost finished cigarette to the side. “The answer is simple—because of money.”

Naruto can’t help but laugh. “Why am I not surprised.”

“You know me well,” Kakuzu shrugs.

“Is there anything you love more than money?” Naruto snuggles closer to him, and it’s probably so easy to understand what he hints at—what he wants to hear.

“Hm,” Kakuzu pretends to think hard about the answer. “You.”

“Really?”

Not that Naruto seriously hoped...

“No,” Kakuzu ruffles his hair roughly.

...of course, he should’ve expected that.

“But you’re a close second,” Kakuzu adds.

He doesn’t laugh, but there’s a spark of amusement in his eyes, and it seems like he’s holding back a smile.

Naruto presses a hand to his face and forces himself to stifle the laughter.

Okay, honestly, it’s the closest thing to a confession he’s heard from Kakuzu.

It’s weird, but not bad at all.

***

Naruto thinks he’ll never get used to this dissonance—Kakuzu is rough in sex, always leaving him bruised and breathless, but before and after—he’s tender and careful, taking his time—and seeming to enjoy it as well.

“Mine,” Kakuzu repeats quietly, slowly kissing his neck. Naruto closes his eyes, still not quite recovered from the pleasure, not as strong but still tangible, and hugs him tightly, running his fingers through his hair.

Kakuzu can act a little possessive sometimes, but Naruto doesn’t mind that—he’s already _his_ anyway, he doesn’t need anyone else.

“I don’t understand why you’re with me,” Naruto says for some reason.

It’s not that he has doubts—it’s just that sometimes he can’t quite believe this. Because until their strange meeting, he wouldn’t have ever imagined that something like this could happen to him.

“I think I should be the one asking this question,” Kakuzu chuckles, not pulling away.

Naruto doesn’t know what to reply, so he ends up saying something stupid again, “Well, you’re... you’re cool,” and really, it fails to express all that he’s feeling now. “I mean, uh...”

“Kid,” Kakuzu laughs, seemingly amused by this. “If so, let’s agree that you too are... _cool_.”

It’s strange to hear something like that from him, but still nice.

“I like it when you laugh,” he says for some reason, and Kakuzu falls silent. “And when you smile. When you hold me like this, when we’re just... together.”

Kakuzu looks up at him, confused, as though he didn’t expect something like that from Naruto.

To be honest, Naruto didn’t expect that from himself, but he couldn’t not say it.

“I... don’t want you to go. I want you to always be with me,” Naruto finishes in one breath and turns away, feeling his face flush.

“I cannot promise you always,” Kakuzu says, so seriously that Naruto looks at him again. “But I also don’t want to let you go.”

He rarely speaks so much about feelings; and almost never gives Naruto a chance to reply, shifting from words to actions.

Just like now, when he takes his hand, kissing his open palm; Naruto flinches, biting his lip—it’s still a little weird, though so good.

Honestly, he doesn’t understand why Kakuzu is so attracted to his hands—there’s nothing special about them. They’re always covered in cuts and scratches after trainings and missions—but despite that, Kakuzu likes kissing them.

Not that Naruto doesn’t like this; there’s something incredibly sweet in it—but also embarrassing in a way.

Perhaps it’s just so unusual, this open show of tenderness, these careful touches, but Naruto can’t deny that he always awaits these moments eagerly.

He awaits their meetings, always so brief.

And this strange something between them is undeniably _wrong_ —Naruto knows they shouldn’t be doing this, that it most likely won’t lead anywhere—but it’s real, and it feels _right_.

The touches that they pretend are accidental, seemingly not meaning much, but conveying more than words ever could.

Naruto thinks he’d give away everything for them to be able to simply be together, without any obstacles, stupid disagreements, without being torn between what they have to do and what they want. He’s tired of feeling like they’re stealing these moments, breaking every law.

He wants to be able to hug Kakuzu whenever he wants to, kiss him without a reason, just be with him— _freely._

Naruto is tired of hiding and lying to everyone, but it’s too late to stop now.

Sakura might be judging him, but it seems like she understands; perhaps relating to him in some way. Naruto never asks but is certain that if Sasuke called her, Sakura would go with him anywhere; and that’s what makes them similar, this readiness to give their all for the people they love.

And perhaps ‘love’ is too grand of a word, but Naruto can’t find any other way to describe what he feels for Kakuzu. It’s more than attachment or habit, more than physical, something stronger and deeper—

And Naruto thinks that, maybe, this is love—carving its way into his heart, getting stronger with each day—giving him more reasons to feel alive.

Naruto doesn’t speak about it, though he wants to, but he stops himself before even opening his mouth.

For some reason he thinks that Kakuzu won’t appreciate his impulse—that he won’t believe him, too used to expecting some catch to everything; and so Naruto tries to express his feelings without words.

With touches, looks, smiles—and, receiving a restrained yet sincere smile in return, Naruto is sure that it’s worth any sacrifice.

And for now, he’s still certain that everything will be fine. Somehow, it just will be, because it can’t be any other way.

***

“Hey, look what I found,” Himawari says as she shows him the three-bladed scythe, nearly dropping it—the thing is too heavy for her, especially since she isn’t used to big weapons like this.

“Where’d you get my scythe, kid?” Hidan’s confused frown looks so funny that Himawari can’t hold back a laugh, though she tries to mask it.

“Well, turns out that Shikamaru-san doesn’t really take care of his stuff,” she explains. “So I kind of... expropriated it. I knew it was yours.”

Himawari noticed the scythe in Shikamaru’s house by accident; she didn’t think he would keep it, but there it was. Not exactly out in the open, and it didn’t seem like he checked on it often, considering how dusty it was; so she hoped he wouldn’t look for it any time soon. Hidan was quite attached to his weapon, as Himawari understood, and she thought he would be glad to get it back.

And it seemed like she wasn’t mistaken.

“That motherfucker kept it as a trophy?” Hidan grimaces. “Son of a bitch.”

“I have it now,” Himawari says, running her fingertips along the blade. “Looks like it needs some sharpening. I’ll think of something.”

“Seriously,” Hidan mutters, “nobody treats a weapon like that.”

Himawari laughs again; somehow Hidan always makes her smile even at the simplest things.

“You can keep it for now,” Hidan says suddenly. “I can’t fight in this state anyway, and you need a proper weapon. What do you use now, kunai and shuriken? That’s just child toys.”

Himawari could argue that the Hyūga taijutsu that her mom and grandfather taught her is more efficient than any weapon... but the sincerity with which Hidan offers his scythe to her doesn’t let her refuse.

And, after all, a little diversity wouldn’t hurt.

“Though you’ll have to work with it, it needs more than a simple sharpening,” Hidan says thoughtfully. “And you’ll need a lot of training, but you’re a capable girl,” and he grins.

Himawari can’t help but blush. Hidan always says weird things, embarrassing her; but Himawari likes it. She feels like this strange bond between them is getting stronger every day.

“So,” she begins, not wanting this to become too awkward. “You’ll give me some tips, right? Probably a tricky weapon to use.”

Hidan grins, a little strained—but it’s understandable. He probably doesn’t like being reminded of his condition. “Sure, why not. Not gonna be the same as showing you the moves... but you’ll figure it out.”

“You really believe in me,” Himawari says and gives him a light smile.

_You’re probably the only one who truly does._

The silence hangs again. Himawari places the scythe on the ground next to herself and looks at Hidan. He stares back at her—well, not much else he could look at; he couldn’t even look away if he wanted to.

He couldn’t leave if he wanted to.

And if he had the ability to just walk away, would he stay with her all the time? Would he listen to her troubles, be so nice to her—

Would he want to be with her?

Himawari shakes her head, shutting her eyes. He’s with her now, isn’t he?

“Hey, kiddo.” Hidan’s voice brings her back to reality. “What is it?”

“Um... I don’t know. Nothing.” Himawari chews on her lip nervously. She doesn’t really know how to say what’s bothering her; and ends up saying something entirely different. “Just thinking... Whatever happened between my dad and Kakuzu? I mean, I got that they used to be... close, but there’s obviously more. And you...”

“ _I_ got nothing to do with that,” Hidan cuts her off, unexpectedly sharp. “Well, yeah. Close. Those bastards.”

“It’s okay,” Himawari tries—maybe she shouldn’t have even asked—but Hidan interrupts her again.

“Just don’t start with that shit. There’s nothing to tell. Well, yeah, they were fucking and all that, until your dad offed Kakuzu. And good riddance.”

“My dad... killed him?” Himawari asks.

It sounds so... strange, so unlike her father. For all his faults, Himawari has trouble imagining that he could kill the person he loved.

Only if he had to, protecting himself or his friends—but even then, she thinks, he would have tried to avoid it.

“And that’s why you hate him,” Himawari says. “I... you know, I understand. It’s hard for me to believe that dad would do that, but if it’s true...”

The pieces finally come together, but it doesn’t help much. Himawari still has no idea what to do next.

It seems like such a simple goal—helping Hidan get a body, but in reality it’s much more difficult.

And instead of working on that, what is she doing? Digging in the past, thinking that it will be of any use.

It’s stupid. It all happened so long ago; it won’t help her now.

It’s bad enough when your family is falling apart in front of you, and with every new detail Himawari learns, it becomes even worse.

And perhaps it would’ve been better if she didn’t know anything.

If they kept pretending to be that perfect family.

***

When he and Kakuzu finally meet as enemies, Naruto offers him to surrender—no.

Naruto begs him to surrender, to run away, not to make him fight him; his eyes sting with tears, and everything inside him freezes with uncontrollable fear. He doesn’t want to, can’t fight Kakuzu, hurt him—this stupid childish feeling of love—right now more than ever Naruto realizes that it is _love_ —never went away.

He shouts, not caring that the others will hear— _understand_.

“Don’t make me do this!”

Sakura grabs his shoulder, hissing into his ear, “Are you out of your mind, Naruto?”

And she’s afraid too—for him; because no one should find out about this; _just what are you doing_ , he hears clearly in her voice.

Naruto shakes his head, ignoring her; and looks at Kakuzu again, trying to read something in his eyes besides this indifference, trying to get through to him— _please, don’t, I don’t wanna hurt you—_

“Please,” Naruto exhales, “don’t make me fight you.”

But Kakuzu only grins—in a scary, unpleasant way, and Naruto understands—he won’t convince him.

And it’s true, they are at the opposite sides, have been from the very beginning, and there could be no other outcome—

_But it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt._

He has no choice left but to attack.

From the corner of his eye, he notices Sakura and Sai disappearing in the trees, feels Kakashi’s intent gaze fixed on himself; but it doesn’t matter now even if he understood.

Right now it all seems so unimportant.

When they’re face to face, Naruto can’t help it, asking desperately, “At least don’t go easy on me,” and thinks that he’d rather die himself than kill him.

“Wasn’t going to.”

That’s all Kakuzu says. And he really doesn’t hold back, making Naruto think for a moment that he’ll be the one to die here.

But his spontaneous plan works suddenly, and Naruto can’t change anything—and despises himself for it; he never cared what others thought, so why now is he betraying a man so dear to him out of fear that his secret will be revealed?

Of course, it’s his duty to Konoha.

Of course, the Akatsuki threaten the whole world.

_But Naruto could have changed something before if he had done anything; if he hadn’t just sat around, it all could have been different now._

But it’s too late.

_Please,_ he thinks _, don’t._

_You’re a great shinobi, you’re stronger than me, are you really going to fall for that?_

Naruto bites his lip, forcing himself to stay silent when Kakuzu destroys his clone—and only at the last moment notices the real him, ready to strike from behind, and it seems like such a _low_ move—

Chakra gathered in his hand burns the skin, and even if Naruto wanted—he wants to—he doesn’t have the time to redirect the blow.

Kakuzu looks at him, and Naruto doesn’t see hate or anger in his eyes—only calm understanding—and it hurts even more.

A powerful blast of energy throws Naruto to the ground as well, and for a few moments the impact leaves him breathless.

He manages to pull himself together somewhat when Ino helps him sit up. She activates the healing technique and says something— _he’s done great, they wouldn’t have made it without him_ —but Naruto looks only at Kakuzu, lying on the ground, unmoving.   
He’s still breathing, and for a second Naruto feels wild hope flare inside him—but then Kakashi-sensei comes up to him, ready to finish this. To kill him.

Naruto wants to scream— _don’t, please, don’t_ —and maybe he could even come up with a decent excuse, they need any information about the Akatsuki, after all, why not take Kakuzu to Konoha for questioning, and then Naruto will think of something else, anything—

But he says nothing, breathing raggedly, trying to hold back the sobs, blinks away his tears and _says nothing_.

“Naruto?” Ino shakes him by the shoulder. “Naruto, what’s wrong?”

Naruto stares into the distance sightlessly, unable to answer or even move.

He doesn’t move until Sakura returns; chasing everyone away, she falls on her knees next to him and takes his face into her hands.

She whispers, “Naruto, come on, look at me,” and he looks, with eyes wide open—but it’s not her he sees.

His whole body begins to burn, bitterness and rage weaving into a hot weight inside his chest, and Naruto realizes vaguely that Kyūbi is trying to break out again, but he doesn’t care.

Even if the beast subdues him, what does it matter now?

But it seems to matter to Sakura, who keeps holding him, stubbornly repeating his name over and over, _calling_ him—and at some point, with incredible effort, Naruto drives the raging power back.

_It’s Sakura—he doesn’t want to hurt her._

_He doesn’t (didn’t) want to hurt anyone._

He exhales sharply, falling into Sakura’s arms.

Almost immediately his consciousness drifts away, and darkness comes over him.

Much later, when they return to Konoha and Sakura chases everyone away from his hospital room, Naruto sits on the bed, staring at the wall, and the memories of what happened keep running through his head. It’s still so hard to realize.

To believe—to _accept_.

It hurts so much, but somehow it doesn’t feel real, as if this pain doesn’t belong to him—as if he’s watching from the side. Or he’s simply dreaming—it’s a great explanation, it’s just a dream, nothing really happened, Naruto just has to wake up—and everything will be alright.

_Kakuzu will be alive, and this time Naruto won’t make the same mistake._

It’s just a dream, Naruto repeats to himself, it’s not real, I’ll wake up any second now.

_Just before Kakashi strikes the final blow, Kakuzu opens his eyes and looks right at Naruto—intently, with a strange expression that’s hard to read through the pained grimace._

_In the next moment, all the emotions are gone from his eyes._

Sakura comes up to Naruto, touching his shoulder carefully.

“Naruto,” she says, “come on...”

And he breaks down, wraps his arms around her, pressing his face into her shoulder—choking on tears, on words, useless apologies that won’t help, that won’t be heard.

_I’m such an idiot, please, forgive me—_ but what will it change now?

Sakura freezes for a second, then relaxes and hugs him gently, strokes his head, whispering quietly,

“Naruto, Naruto... what a fool.”

She stays with him until he calms down—or rather, has no more strength left to cry, and just goes limp in her arms, closing his eyes.

Even though it doesn’t get better, Naruto is grateful that she’s here—that she didn’t turn away from him, despite everything.

“Tell me...” Naruto begins quietly, “What did Kakashi-sensei... and others... did they understand something? When I...”

He doesn’t finish, but Sakura understands.

“Well, I told them that this new jutsu of yours affected your nervous system... that’s why you started losing control of the bijū and all.” She grins wryly. “It’s all total nonsense, of course. But... At least there won’t be any awkward questions. Or less than there could be. If anything happens... I’ll come up with something else. Like, that it was an unsuccessful tactic to disorient the enemy. What if he’s so shocked that he’ll really surrender?”

At least she’s trying to cheer him up. Naruto smiles weakly—it probably comes out strained and unnatural, but he couldn’t care less about it now.

“Thanks, Sakura-chan,” he inhales sharply, “really, thank you.”

“Did you think I’d leave you like that?” She ruffles his hair. “Oh, Naruto... I have no idea what you were hoping for. You knew how this was going to end.”

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto winces painfully. “Please, don’t, it already...”

Hurts.

It hurts so much that he wants to disappear, to die—or at least not to feel _anything_ anymore.

Sakura bites her lip, looking at him with guilt and sympathy.

“I’m sorry.” And adds after a couple seconds, “I’m so sorry... I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling.”

Naruto lowers his head, closing his eyes and trying to breathe steadily.

Don’t think, don’t think—it only makes it worse.

And still the memories don’t want to fade.

Naruto is awake, despite how tired he is.

He managed to fall asleep for a couple hours—and woke up with his heart pounding, having relived today once again.

He’d rather not sleep at all than go through this again and again, and even though Naruto more than deserves the pain, he doesn’t want to feel it again.

The pain still remains, but if he tries not to think about it, it’s easier to handle it.

Easier to pretend it’s not real.

Someone touches his shoulder, and Naruto raises his head, seeing Sakura’s silhouette bent over him.  
She also isn’t sleeping—she’s stayed by his side the whole day, even though she really didn’t have to.

“Come,” she says barely audibly. “Just be quiet.”

Naruto doesn’t know where they’re going, but obeys and gets out of the bed without a single word. He doesn’t care; Sakura could lead him anywhere now.

It doesn’t matter at all.

Sakura firmly grips his uninjured hand while they walk through the corridors of the hospital—and go down somewhere.

She stops in front of the heavy door and lets him go, gesturing for him to stand still. Naruto stops; he feels a little curious for a moment, but it fades quickly.

“Come in,” Sakura says, opening the door.

Naruto steps inside, and Sakura locks the door behind them. He looks around, but it’s too dark to understand what this room is.

He hears a click, and bright light fills the room.

“It’s... the morgue? Why did you bring me here?” Naruto wonders, even though he doesn’t really care.

He thinks he’d be glad to end up among the corpses here now, just not to feel this aching emptiness inside.

Of course, he isn’t going to kill himself—he’s a shinobi, he should be able to handle... _everything_ ; but for some reason he still thinks about it.

It would be so easy to die—and regret nothing more, not to be tormented by this sickening guilt; it would be much easier than to keep on living.

And this is why Naruto will have to _live_ —he doesn’t deserve such an easy escape.

Sakura looks at him and shakes her head.

She seems so tired, and the guilt grows stronger; _you don’t have to help me, it’ll be fine_ , Naruto wants to say but doesn’t.

Because he knows it won’t be fine. And maybe Sakura being here is the only thing that still helps him hold on.

“Come here,” Sakura says, coming up to one of the bodies—that’s away from the others for some reason.

Naruto stares at the floor silently, a weird heavy feeling growing in his chest.

Sakura takes a breath and says, “I thought you’d like to...” she stutters, and Naruto blankly looks up at her.

“What?”

“To say goodbye,” she says awkwardly. “Or something like that.”

She lifts the sheet, revealing the body, and Naruto freezes in place as the realization hits him—it’s not a nightmare, it’s _real_.

Kakuzu really is dead.

Naruto really killed him.

He drops to his knees, suffocating, gasping for breath; and Sakura kneels down next to him, holding him closer.

“Naruto, Naruto, it’s okay! Come on, calm down...”

“Not okay,” Naruto whispers, “I killed him... how can it be okay? Sakura-chan...”

“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea...” her voice breaks a little. “I... maybe you shouldn’t have seen this, come on...”

To his own surprise, Naruto shakes his head. Leaning on her arm, he manages to get up and takes an uncertain step forward.

“Naruto...”

He shakes his head again—words won’t change anything. For better or worse.

As if it could be worse.

Sakura falls silent; she always understood him. And she understands now that there’s no need to say anything.

Seeing Kakuzu dead feels so _wrong_ that Naruto hopes deep inside that he’s only dreaming.

At the same time he realizes—there’s no point in denying what happened.

Naruto reaches out, trembling fingers touching his face, stroking his unnaturally cold skin.

_Can I wake up now, please... it’s not funny at all._

Kakuzu’s eyes are closed, and Naruto is even glad—he couldn’t stand to see his empty, dead look again.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he exhales, and his voice breaks. “I didn’t want it... to come to this.”

He takes his limp, ice-cold hand, squeezes it as hard as he can, as if trying to warm him, as if still hoping that it will help, bring him back to life—somehow.

“I didn’t want this,” Naruto closes his eyes, kneels down, pressing his forehead against Kakuzu’s hand, and repeats helplessly, “I didn’t want this.”


	5. Chapter 5

Naruto thinks he loves Hinata—no, why ‘thinks’? He does love her, truly, and this feeling has grown from friendship and deep respect. There was no such childish admiration between them like what he’d felt for Sakura; just like there was no spark like between him and Kakuzu, turning into a wild flame and burning everything to the ground.

It’s different with Hinata. It’s tenderness and warmth. Boundless trust—at least, it used to be the case.

And Naruto really cares about Hinata, but for some reason, after so many years of happy life, he returns to the ashes of the old passion, trying to find something there that will make him feel alive and whole again.

It’s as wrong as it is strange—why does he need it at all, if everything is great?

Though is it really? Be it all so perfect, Naruto wouldn’t want to change anything.

If he really loved Hinata, and didn’t just try to convince himself, would he engage in all this again? Of course not.

Everyday lies have become so usual. He tells her he’s fine, that nothing is going on.

Lately, it’s more and more difficult to hug her—it feels wrong, not like he needs, like he wants.

He thinks of Hinata, so tender and soft, her soothing words and comforting embrace.

And it’s somehow not enough for Naruto—it’s not what he wants.

Naruto doesn’t deserve Hinata, her love; he doesn’t deserve anyone’s love, with all the mistakes he’s made and keeps on making.

“Is everything okay?” Hinata asks, and Naruto shakes his head, returning to reality.

“Yeah.” He glances at the cup of coffee he’s been gripping for the past ten minutes—still untouched.

It’s become a sort of a tradition. Hinata always makes him coffee in the mornings, after she found out that he liked it. She thinks it’s an endearing habit, and Naruto never once told her that he doesn’t actually like coffee all that much. Especially when it’s that sweet.

But it brings a lot of memories back.

“You were dazing off,” Hinata notes, and the sympathy in her voice makes guilt rise its head again. “You didn’t get much sleep, did you?”

Naruto shrugs. He didn’t, just like most nights.

“You really need to go easy on yourself.” Hinata reaches out, covering his hand with hers. “Coffee will only keep you up so long.”

“I know.”

Naruto gently forces her hand away, under the pretense that he simply wants to drink his coffee.

The truth is, he doesn’t feel comfortable touching her.

He doesn’t feel like he has any right to, not after everything.

Hinata hesitates for some time, looking at him, then finally speaks.

“I wanted to talk with you.”

“What about?” Naruto asks.

He could probably think of a hundred matters they needed to discuss.

“Himawari,” Hinata lets out a soft sigh, clasping her hands, and looks up at Naruto again. “Something is going on with her.”

“What makes you think that?”

Sure, Himawari’s become somewhat distant lately, but it’s a natural part of growing up, is it not? She wants to have something to herself, some privacy.

Naruto thinks so. It’s not like he has a lot of personal experience to say if it’s normal or not.

“She’s been acting... not like usual,” Hinata says. “And she’s constantly disappearing somewhere. She never leaves the village, but I don’t know where she goes.” A faint, slightly sad smile appears on her face for a moment. “I guess that must say she’s a great kunoichi. But I’m still worried.”

“Maybe she’s just training?” Naruto suggests. “Testing new techniques?”

“When I tried talking to her, she said exactly that,” Hinata chuckles sadly.

“Well, then...” Naruto doesn’t finish—Hinata interrupts him.

“I know when my daughter is lying to me or hiding something, Naruto-kun. I would never pry into her personal life if she didn’t want to tell me, but it’s just... it’s not like her at all.”

And again he can’t bring himself to meet Hinata’s gaze. Would he be so perceptive?

Probably not.

There are no excuses for that. What if something bad really did happen to Himawari, what if she has troubles? And instead of noticing that in time and helping her, Naruto is so consumed by his own problems, forgetting about people who truly need him—about his family.

It’s so reckless, so disgusting of him.

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata says quietly. “I think you should try and talk to her. Maybe she’ll tell you what she’s not telling me.”

“I’ll try.” Though he’s not sure if anything will come out of it. Himawari has always been closer with Hinata, and if she didn’t open up to her... Still, he can’t just ignore this.

He has to do something, for once.

“Naruto-kun.” Hinata takes his hand again. “Something’s been up with you too. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me anything?”

Naruto shakes his head. “I’m sure.”

“I know you have a lot of responsibilities,” Hinata says. “But you don’t have to do this on your own, Naruto-kun. You can ask for help. Everyone is here for you,” she looks into his eyes seriously, “I’m here for you.”

“It’s not so much about that,” Naruto mutters, averting his gaze. “But I’m fine.”

As always, Hinata sees through his weak façade.

“I can see that something happened. You can tell me,” she says quietly. “We’ll deal with it together. Just don’t shut me down, please.”

“I’m not,” Naruto says stubbornly, completely helpless.

“Naruto-kun.” Hinata keeps looking at him, and there’s sadness and tenderness in her eyes, but no anger or reproach. “I’m not trying to start a fight. I just wish you would trust me. Please.”

Naruto just nods. He wants to look away again but forces himself to hold her gaze.

“I’ve messed up,” he admits, and it’s more true than she knows. “I should be there for you. For Boruto and Himawari. But I’m not. I’m a husband who’s always absent, a father who never has time for his kids,” he exhales, closing his eyes, and shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

The apology won’t change anything. It’s just empty words.

“You don’t have to be,” Hinata’s voice is surprisingly understanding. “Look at me.”

When Naruto doesn’t, she sighs and gets up from the table. He half-expects her to leave, but instead she walks up to him and hugs him—the embrace is tender and certain, as if she wants to give some of her confidence to him.

It doesn’t really work, but Naruto feels grateful—and even more guilty.

“It’s not easy to be a parent,” somehow he hears both smile and sadness in her voice. “It’s not like I always get things right, Naruto-kun. And with your position, it’s probably even harder. Just... try not to forget that you have a family.”

Unable to say anything, Naruto only puts a hand on her arm and squeezes it.

He shouldn’t forget. He really shouldn’t.

“It’s going to be okay.” It sounds like she believes it. Believes in him.

Hinata kisses his forehead lightly before pulling away. “I’ll let you work now. If... you want to talk about it more, just tell me.”

Naruto forces a weak smile. “Sure. I...” Words get stuck in his throat. “Thanks, Hinata.”

She only smiles back at him, and only now he notices how weary her smile is.

When she leaves, Naruto doesn’t even touch the pile of papers on his desk. Neither does he go looking for Himawari.

He just keeps staring at the half-emptied cup of coffee.

Funny how such simple things can mean so much.

Or perhaps it’s just Naruto clinging on to the past desperately, not willing to let go.

And everything reminds him of what he’s lost.

He can’t forget, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how guilty he feels before Hinata.

It’s hard to forget something like this—truly forget, not just drive it into the back of your mind and pretend it never happened.

***

Naruto forces himself to open his eyes—there is one undeniable con to their meetings, he doesn’t get enough sleep. It’s not surprising, considering that they spend the night on things more exciting; but in the morning Naruto has to pay the price.

Though it seems like he’s the only one suffering from that. Kakuzu doesn’t seem tired at all, giving Naruto an amused look.

There’s something in this, meeting the morning together, especially since it happens rarely. Usually Kakuzu leaves much earlier, while Naruto is still asleep, and seeing him near upon waking up is priceless.

“You look terrible,” Kakuzu notes.

“Whose fault is it,” Naruto mutters, sitting down next to him, and presses his forehead against his shoulder. “Maybe night really is for sleep after all.”

Kakuzu shakes his head and strokes his back, making him snuggle closer.

“What a kid you are.”

“No,” Naruto objects lazily. “Just tired. Hey, I have no idea how I’m going to get to Konoha... unless you’ll carry me there.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Kakuzu grins. “I can only offer you coffee.”

“Coffee?” Naruto raises his head. “Uh, sure. Maybe it’ll wake me up.”

Kakuzu slides the still untouched cup towards him, and Naruto takes it carefully. Cautious not to get burned, he tries it—and regrets it immediately.

“How can you drink that, ’ttebayo?” he asks, spitting; that’s not coffee, it’s some terrible mix of sugar, sugar and even more sugar—it only smells like coffee.

“I like it,” Kakuzu replies, which is his answer to most questions. Not the worst and at least honest; but it’s just too surprising. He takes the cup back and takes a sip, obviously enjoying it.

Naruto thinks that this doesn’t seem like Kakuzu at all; it’s even funny in a way. He smiles—maybe everyone can have a little weakness.

Contrary to what he expects, Kakuzu only smiles back at him, albeit barely noticeably. Then he pulls Naruto closer, kissing him quickly, and now the sweetness doesn’t seem all that bad—on the contrary, quite pleasant.

Naruto wants to kiss him again and again, and he doesn’t deny himself that, pressing his lips against his. It tastes just a little sweet; just right.

Surprised at first, Kakuzu quickly takes the initiative, returning the kiss with more confidence. Though he pulls away after just a few seconds, instead just holding Naruto close, burying his face in his hair. Naruto snuggles to him and smiles—probably looking so stupid.

He thinks he’s never felt so good and calm with someone.

***

This has been going on for too long, and Naruto isn’t sure what he feels.

He thinks he’s happy, having a chance to be with Kakuzu at least for a while; almost like before, only now they secretly meet at his own house, and Naruto has no idea where Kakuzu leaves after—he never stays for long.

Sometimes, incomprehensible tension slips between them; though it’s actually not that hard to figure out the reason. Naruto thinks that he also wouldn’t be able to treat the one who killed him with the same feelings.

Not that he thinks that Kakuzu has stopped caring about him, but things are just _not the same_.

And it’s quite natural, but Naruto doesn’t want to accept it.

Yet he doesn’t know how to act, either. Now, when they’re alone in the house, Naruto just doesn’t look away from him, tries to keep the conversation going—as usual, speaking mostly nonsense.

“I don’t like it when you leave. Why can’t you stay?” Naruto touches his shoulder, and Kakuzu looks at him with such a familiar expression that Naruto can’t help but smile, albeit faintly.

“I don’t want to be seen.”

“I really did think I was just going crazy,” Naruto admits. “It’s still... a little weird.”

“When I woke up and realized I was... ‘alive’ again, I thought at first that I’d ended up in that hell Hidan kept promising me,” Kakuzu replies. “I’m glad it wasn’t the case.”

“Me too,” Naruto says awkwardly. “You know... I had no idea how much I missed you.”

Kakuzu only chuckles and lowers his head on his lap, not moving—and not saying anything, leaving Naruto to guess what he means by that.

Hinata does that, letting him play with her hair; and somehow Naruto has a feeling that with this similar gesture Kakuzu is proving something to him.

_That he’s just as good, perhaps?_

But there’s no point in comparing; Naruto already knows.

He feels incredibly tired, and perhaps Kakuzu’s silent closeness is just what he needs.

“Can I?” Naruto asks quietly, touching his hair. Somehow he’s sure of the answer, despite the numerous protests in the past.

“Do whatever you want, Naruto,” Kakuzu sounds even more tired now. “However you want.”

Naruto says nothing more, only goes mindlessly through his hair—long, soft, the strands easily slide between his fingers. He doesn’t know why, but this always calmed him. Actually, when he was _alive_ —how strange it sounds—Kakuzu rarely allowed him to touch his hair like this _._ It even offended Naruto a little back then; now, he has nothing to complain about, now suddenly everything is allowed, but it brings him little joy.

Guilt rushes over him again—before Kakuzu, before Hinata, before Boruto and Himawari—what, _what_ is he doing, why?

Naruto is supposed to be happy.

But for some reason he’s destroying all he’s worked so hard to achieve.

Forgetting himself, Naruto tugs on Kakuzu’s hair too strongly—he mutters something irritably but doesn’t move away like he always did.

“Sorry,” Naruto loosens his grip, tries to remove his hand, but Kakuzu stops him.

Pressing his lips against his bandaged palm, he lingers like this for a few seconds—during which Naruto forgets to breathe.

He waits for Kakuzu to say something, but hears nothing; so he speaks himself. “I don’t want you to go.”

Kakuzu chuckles grimly, raising his head—looking right into his eyes, and it’s as if he sees right through Naruto.

Though... he always did.

“It’s best for you.”

“No,” Naruto grips his hand—harder, to make sure he doesn’t disappear. “Oh, damn it. I’m being a fool, I know, but I don’t want to lose you again.”

When Kakuzu doesn’t respond, Naruto exhales desperately, “ _You_ came to me. You wanted to see me, be with me—I’m here.”

“You’ll leave your wife for me?” Kakuzu asks indifferently.

Naruto can’t find the words, but he doesn’t wait for his answer.

“I thought so.”

“Kakuzu, I...” Naruto begins but is interrupted again.

“In any case, I don’t have much time left.”

Naruto shudders, staring at him—Kakuzu looks back at him, and something in his serious and defeated expression tells him that it’s not just an assumption—he knows.

But how?

Naruto squeezes his hand even tighter.

“You don’t have much time... what are you talking about? What makes you think that?”

Kakuzu shrugs, grimacing.

“Let’s say there were... certain conditions I failed to fulfill.”

“What conditions?”

Naruto doesn’t understand why it hurts so much—why he doesn’t want to let him go. Wouldn’t it be better if everything went back to normal, if he could just forget about it?

It wouldn’t, Naruto realizes suddenly. He’d do anything for him to stay.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you could do,” Kakuzu’s wry grin looks completely fake. “I got to see you, at the very least.”

“No, no! Don’t give me that; you’re going to tell me what’s this all about, and we’re going to figure this out—”

“How to kill me for good?”

Naruto almost chokes on his breath—why does he always have to be like this?

“Wha— No! We’ll find a way, there has to be a way to...”

“Dead is dead, Naruto. This is the best you’ll get.”

Naruto shakes his head violently, trying desperately to think of something—a way to convince him it’s worth trying, an idea that could help.

He’s not even sure why this is the thought that comes to his mind—maybe because the memory is vibrant, too, when he’d almost lost another person he cared about... only that time things didn’t turn out as grim.

“You ever heard of Elder Chiyo?” Naruto asks hastily.

Kakuzu thinks for a while. “Don’t think I have.”

“Well, she was from Suna... I didn’t get a chance to know her well, but.” Naruto takes a deep breath, trying to calm his heartbeat. It doesn’t help much. “Thing is, she... resurrected Gaara. When he was dead, you know. It was a special technique... she gave her own life to bring him back. And— and of course I’m no medic, but I think Sakura has to know this technique, or maybe we could find something similar, and I would—”

The sudden flash of anger in Kakuzu’s eyes makes him trail off.

“No. Out of the question.”

“But it’s the least I owe you.”

If only it was so easy to fix his mistakes. Naruto would do it in a heartbeat.

Kakuzu sighs, exasperated.

“It’s not about debts.” He holds Naruto’s hand, surprisingly gentle. “You’re being irrational, Naruto. And it’s all a mess, to put it lightly. I understand. But do you think I’d want you to die? Especially in some stupid act of self-sacrifice.” He goes silent for a moment, and then chuckles. “Though it would be so much like you.”

Naruto says nothing, helpless, not knowing what to say—should he say anything, is there _anything_ to say?

He just leans in, hugging Kakuzu as tight as he can, as if that could keep him here.

“Don’t go,” he whispers, “I can’t do this without you.”

“You were doing just fine for twenty years,” Kakuzu chuckles skeptically. “What nonsense.”

“No,” Naruto closes his eyes, feeling cold arms wrap around him—yet another reminder. “I’m so... so sorry.”

Losing him for the second time is just as painful—but Naruto probably deserves all of this.

***

“You’re doing great, Himawari-chan,” Sakura says. “At this rate, you’ll soon surpass me.”

This is most certainly nothing more than flattery, but Himawari still smiles, not hiding her joy. Anyone likes being appreciated, and though Himawari knows that it’ll take a lot of time and training for her to even come close to Sakura’s level, she’s achieved something.

“Thanks, Sakura-san,” she nods.

Sakura smiles back at her, though a little distraughtly. She’s been unusually distracted today, lost in her thoughts; and Himawari wonders what has to do with this.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks innocently.

Sakura blushes a little, fixing her hair, and her eyes spark with joy.

“It’s just that... Sasuke-kun will be home soon,” she says. “I haven’t seen him in a while, and Sarada too... she’ll be happy.”

“That’s great, Sakura-san!” Himawari has never been particularly close with Sasuke, unlike Boruto; but their relationship was alright.

And Boruto respected Sasuke even more than father; Himawari never shared his opinion, thinking that nobody could replace their dad, even if he wasn’t perfect.

Sakura seems really happy now, and Himawari is glad for her.

Must be nice finally seeing your loved one after he’s been away for so long—finally hugging him, holding his hand...

Himawari’s smile becomes bleak as she thinks about that. Will she ever be able to do the same?

In her head, the image of Sakura in Sasuke’s arms, laughing, is replaced with the image of Himawari herself—and Hidan.

She’d like him to hold her. Protect her, shield her from the rest of the world.

 _We’d need someone strong, just anyone’s body won’t do_ —wasn’t that what Hidan said?

Is Sasuke strong enough to..?

Himawari flinches, staring into the floor with wide eyes. Did she seriously just think about that?

“Everything okay?” Sakura asks, touching her shoulder.

“Y-yes, Sakura-san,” she responds, licking her suddenly dry lips. “I just remembered, I promised mom to help with something and...”

Sakura doesn’t let her finish, accepting her inept lie; she probably has a lot of other things to worry about.

“Of course, Himawari-chan, go. Give my regards to Hinata, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Himawari mutters her goodbyes and quickly excuses herself—but she doesn’t go home.

She goes to Hidan, just like always when she has doubts.

That dangerous thought doesn’t want to leave her mind; and maybe it’s not such a crazy option after all?

She thinks she hears something like quiet whispering behind her back, but when she turns around, there’s no one there.

Must be just the wind; or her agitated mind playing tricks with her.

“You ever had friends?”

“Weird question. As a kid, sure. Not like it lasted long, though. Then... well, there was our little gang of freaks, but I wouldn’t exactly call them friends. We barely ever saw each other, well, aside from our partners.” Hidan chuckles suddenly. “But partner doesn’t usually equal friend.”

“Was that the case with you and Kakuzu?” Himawari asks carefully.

“Sorta.” Hidan doesn’t look like he wants to talk about it—but keeps speaking. “To be fair, it was alright at first, but then everything kinda went downhill fast, and as much as I hate him, it’s mostly just a shitty turn of events. You can’t force someone to like you, y’know?” He huffs, closes his eyes for a moment. “Anyway, why’d you bring that up? Got trouble with your friends or somethin’? Just kick their ass, you’re a tough girl.”

Himawari lets out a short nervous laugh. This sounds as accurate as never before.

“I’ve been thinking,” she begins, “and I really can’t come to anything. You know I... Well.” She bites her lip, clutching her fists. “I don’t know if I’m willing to go that far.”

“Mind being less vague?” Hidan asks, annoyed.

Himawari shakes her head, clutching at her clothes. Her fingers are trembling—she doesn’t want it to show.

“You know, I... don’t want to be a burden. A disappointment. Boruto is stronger, he’s always been, and maybe it’s fair since, you know, he’s older, but I still can’t stop thinking about it. Everyone is just... better than me. They’re stronger, they have great abilities, and I’m just... me.”

“Well, if you want my opinion,” Hidan says seriously, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Himawari exhales. “I... thanks.”

“Now why don’t you tell me what’s that about?” His voice sounds genuinely concerned. She wants to believe that.

“I really wanna help you,” Himawari finally looks him straight in the eyes. “And I think I’ve found... a way.”

“A way,” Hidan repeats, obviously still confused. “How is it connected with all that talk about friends?”

“If I do that, I’ll hurt my friends,” Himawari whispers. “And family. And I really don’t want to. But I want to help you... and it doesn’t really make much difference, does it? No matter who I choose, somebody’s going to be hurt.”

“Might as well go all the way, right,” Hidan says, and for once his grim sarcasm doesn’t make her smile.

Himawari inhales deeply.

_He’s just right. You won’t find anyone stronger. You could even take some of that strength for yourself._

Himawari blinks, suddenly feeling cold. Are these her thoughts? Is she really considering this?

_Yes._

She wants to help Hidan. And, really, he’s the only who’s been there for her all this time.

She won’t forgive herself if she doesn’t take this chance for him.

“Sasuke,” she says finally, her voice shaky. “Uchiha Sasuke.”

“Last I heard, that kid got literally everyone chasing after him,” Hidan muses. “How long’s it been? I might’ve lost track of time.” He chuckles, somewhat bitterly. “So what about him? Did you somehow persuade him to help us?”

“No.” Himawari holds her breath. _He wouldn’t anyway. Nobody would._ “We could use him. His body. You said that we needed someone strong, a worthy sacrifice? Sasuke-san is just like that.”

At first, Hidan looks confused—and then his lips form into a grin.

“Hima-chan,” he drawls. “You little evil genius. They should be afraid of you... and you look so cute and innocent,” he laughs.

Himawari doesn’t.

“But it’s not really fair, is it?” she asks quietly instead. “Sasuke-san did nothing to us.”

And Sakura-san. And Sarada... they were never the best of friends, but Himawari never hated her. Never wanted her to feel hurt.

And she’ll be hurt, they all will be.

“Look, kiddo,” Hidan looks at her seriously. “It’s not like I can force you to do anything. I’m not in the position for demands. Do I want to get my body back—or, well, any body? Hell yes! But only you can help me with that. You’re really my only chance, though I hate to admit it, so. Gotta do this on your terms. We could wait for another opportunity. Hey, why not take that Nara asshole? He’s gotta pay back for what he did to me.” He goes silent for a while. “On second thought, no, I don’t want his body. I’ll just sacrifice him to Jashin-sama.”

“Yeah...”

He gives her that wide, genuine grin, and Himawari breaks down. She feels like she wants to cry, but instead for some reason this time she laughs, and she can’t stop, can’t stop.

“There, there,” she hears Hidan mutter awkwardly, and so desperately wants to feel his hand in her hair, his arms around her.

And this desire is what strengthens her determination.

***

It’s not surprising that her frequent disappearances start to raise questions, and Himawari has become used to lying that everything is fine.

“Are you okay, Himawari?” father asks softly.

Himawari shrugs, not facing him. What should she say? Not that she’s okay, but not that bad either. Fine. Normal.

Himawari feels guilty and torn, if she’s honest. She’s decided what she will do, but that doesn’t make it much easier.

The only thing that helps her cope somewhat is Hidan being there for her.

“It’s just... I can see that something is going on with you. I’m worried, and your mom is too.”

Something... something is definitely going on.

Maybe she’s growing up. Her illusions are shattering.

Yet there’s still a lingering sensation that she’s making a mistake—and that there’s maybe still a chance to turn back.

“If I did... something bad...” she hopes that this slight break in her voice came unnoticed. “Would you hate me?”

Her question seems to take Naruto aback.

“Of course not. I’d do my best to help you,” he puts a hand on her shoulder, calming the shiver. “You can tell me. I know that I’m... not always around when you need me.” The guilt in his eyes reflects her own right now. “But if you need my help, advice or—anything, just ask.”

She wants to ask father—is _he_ okay? Isn’t he tired of lying to mom and everyone around him, lying to them—and to himself, that everything is okay?

She’s silent, because it’s none of her business, she shouldn’t get into it. Especially since Kakuzu is going to die soon anyway, and everything will be as it were. For everyone—but not for Himawari.

She’s as persistent as her dad, and she will go through with her crazy idea. She can’t afford to fail—and with Hidan by her side, she won’t.

They only need to wait until Sasuke returns to Konoha, and according to Sakura, it’s going to be soon. And in the meantime, Himawari will prepare. She’ll make it—she’s become much stronger.

And then they will disappear.

And for now, she’ll just be her usual self, waiting and pretending that nothing is going on.

“Thanks,” Himawari says, and she means it. “But I’m really okay. Just a lot of things on my mind, things I need to do. Promise, nothing bad for now!” She does her best to force a reassuring smile.

Besides, it’s somewhat true.

For now.

Dad doesn’t look convinced but nods, knowing that this stubbornness runs in the family—if Himawari doesn’t want to tell him, she won’t.

She’s not going to. It would be foolish.

“If you’re sure...” he says, and Himawari takes his hand carefully.

“I’m sure, dad. Really, don’t worry. I’m totally fine.”

He smiles at her, stiffly and bitterly, though trying to hide it; and Himawari feels sorry for him—but he’s strong, he’ll get through it.

Just like Himawari.

***

“Himawari says she’s okay. You know, I think she looked quite happy. Maybe she’s met someone? Someone she likes, I mean,” Naruto jokes awkwardly.

He wishes it were the case, the simplest explanation to her acting mysterious—it wouldn’t be unusual for a teen like her to hide her crush from them.

Hinata shakes her head, not fully convinced, still worried; and Naruto doesn’t come up with a better idea than to hold her close and whisper, “It’s going to be okay, we’ll get through it—together.”

Pulling away, he’s relieved to see a smile on her face—uncertain, but still a smile, and it’s much better than the look of sadness and pain she had lately.

“If you say that, I can be sure we will,” she says, reaches out, taking his face into her warm hands. “Naruto-kun. I love you.”

As always, silence is the response. Naruto could never force himself to tell her that—but now, instead of speaking, he leans forward and kisses her.

He thinks vaguely that he doesn’t even remember when was the last time he kissed her—not just brushing his lips against her cheek in the morning, but for real.

Hinata responds, burying her fingers in his hair, pulls him closer; and Naruto is torn between ‘it’s how it should be’ and ‘I’m just lying to myself and her’ only for the first couple moments.

Tonight he and Hinata sleep together for the first time in what seems like forever—just sleep in each other’s arms, Naruto isn’t ready for anything more than that. Still, her closeness calms him, and he finally falls asleep without nightmares and tossing, finally feels almost alright.

He even _almost_ forgets about the mess that’s going on in his life—and about Kakuzu.

  
But he doesn’t manage to enjoy this calmness for long, as in the middle of the night he’s woken up by a quiet, tired voice.

“Naruto,” and the bitterness in it is almost palpable.

Naruto opens his eyes, jerks up on the bed; and words get stuck in his throat when he sees Kakuzu sitting next to him.

“What... are you...” Naruto falters.

Kakuzu grins slightly, moves closer, and for a moment Naruto thinks he’s about to kiss him—but he doesn’t.

“Come,” he says instead, taking his hand. “You don’t want to wake her, do you?”

He nods at Hinata, still asleep, and Naruto grits his teeth.

No, he doesn’t want to wake Hinata, she can’t—shouldn’t know anything... he feels sick.

He rises silently, trying not to meet Kakuzu’s gaze, afraid to see the reflection of his own thoughts.

 _What am I doing,_ Naruto thinks, _how can I._

Surrounded by heavy silence, they reach the kitchen; Naruto thinks that nobody will hear them there, the children’s rooms are at the other end of the house.

Contrary to his expectations, Kakuzu doesn’t hurry to say anything; he’s looking at Naruto, and it seems that he’s judging him for something.

Though why—for _something?_ Naruto knows perfectly well for what, and he’s blaming himself even more.

Yet he doesn’t know how to fix anything.

He tries to start the conversation, “Listen...” his throat is suddenly dry, and he coughs.

He can’t find words.

He thinks there’s nothing to say.

Naruto only thinks that they have so little time left, and _this_ is how he wastes it; destroying everything, hurting Kakuzu even more—as if he hasn’t endured enough because of him.

Kakuzu keeps silent, only piercing him with an unreadable gaze, under which Naruto feels uncomfortable—hell, just terrible.

“Didn’t you want to talk?” he asks quietly.

No answer follows, and Naruto sighs in defeat. He picks up a bottle of water on the table, takes a few gulps, laughs dully, “Something stronger would be nice here, eh?”

There’s no reaction. Naruto laughs again, this time completely forced, and says, “Since you’re here, shouldn’t I be a good host? Do you want something? You like coffee,” with each word, greeted with silence, Naruto stumbles even more and falls silent in the end.

“I’m dead, idiot,” Kakuzu finally says. “In case you’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, so you haven’t lost your voice,” Naruto jokes grimly. “I haven’t forgotten,” he ruffles his hair furiously, not looking at him. “And I haven’t forgotten that you only drink sweet coffee, that sugary mess one sip of which makes me sick, but for some reason you like it! And that you smoke sometimes, and that you hate your hair being touched but let me do this for some reason, and that you always scratch the scar on your arm when you’re nervous, and the way you kissed me when you thought I was still asleep; I haven’t forgotten any of it, I still remember everything! You know, I don’t remember some missions, I don’t remember where Hinata and I went on dates, I don’t remember our wedding anniversary—hell, I once forgot my own daughter’s birthday—but somehow I remember everything about you!” By the end he’s almost shouting, not caring about being heard—and goes silent only when Kakuzu presses a hand to his mouth.

Naruto is shaking with anger—or something else, breathes through his nose slowly, trying to calm down at least a little, eventually relaxing.

“Are you done?” Kakuzu asks and, after receiving a faint nod, removes his hand. “Good.”

Naruto looks at him with desperate hope; he doesn’t know what else there is to say, so he just kisses him. But there’s no reaction. Kakuzu doesn’t respond to the kiss, doesn’t do anything—and it hurts for some reason.

“What is it?” Naruto strokes his cheek, trying to understand how he messed up again.

“Do you love her?” Kakuzu asks, and his voice sounds completely lifeless.

Naruto wants to answer that he does, but it feels wrong.

Or no—he loves Hinata, but not the way he _should_.

Not enough.

“I... don’t know,” he doesn’t feel certain at all. “Maybe...”

Kakuzu nods silently, clearly not intending to continue the conversation.

Naruto doesn’t understand anything.

Not him, not himself.

He asks, unable to stop himself, “You won’t even ask if I love _you_?”

“Why?” Kakuzu grins wryly. “I know you don’t.”

“It’s not true!” Naruto grabs his shoulders, pulls him closer, holds him as tight as he can. “You’re wrong, I...”

Once again he falters, unable to find the right words.

If he’d said it all those years ago, would it have made a difference? Probably not, but still...

“I’ve always loved you,” Naruto mutters, and tears sting his eyes. “Always—only you.”

Kakuzu freezes, seemingly startled, and Naruto forces a smile.

It hurts.

Mostly because he had hurt him too often, and how could these belated words make any difference?

“I love you,” Naruto tries to sound steady, but his voice still breaks; his cheeks feel wet, and he realizes vaguely that he’s crying. “You don’t believe me?”

“Hush,” Kakuzu kisses his forehead lightly. “Just don’t cry. What kind of a Hokage are you? Kid.” From the tone of his voice, it seems like he’s smiling, and Naruto smiles too, faintly.

“Do you believe me?” he repeats stubbornly.

“Want to.”

Naruto doesn’t know how to convince him; doesn’t even know if he has the right to.

But he says again, “I’m not lying, I’m not,” he looks into his eyes. “Please, just believe me.”

Kakuzu doesn’t respond, instead holding him close—so tightly, and this embrace is far from innocent, especially when his arms slide over Naruto’s body in such way.

“What are you doing,” Naruto shivers but doesn’t stop him.

Kakuzu kisses his neck lightly, and Naruto shivers again—his hands are trembling, too, and his vision is blurry, and he isn’t sure why.

Unnatural, almost painful excitement comes over him, and it doesn’t get better even when cold hands slide under his t-shirt, brushing along his ribs.

“Catching up?” Kakuzu asks with a quiet laugh.

“Now? Here?” Naruto tries to stay calm but fails.

It’s stupid, it’s too reckless—they have to stop.

Though really, who is Naruto trying to fool here—he doesn’t want to stop even for a second.

Kakuzu kneels down, firmly holding his hands. He kisses his palms, his wrists, every inch of the skin, it seems, and just like always, it can’t get any clearer than that.

Naruto doesn’t need words—this is more than enough.

***

“Gods—they actually don’t give a damn about us,” Hidan grins. “I mean... Jashin-sama had given me immortality, and as long as I make... made sacrifices to him, He favored me. But my petty desires hardly ever stirred Him.”

“What desires?” Himawari asks.

Hidan doesn’t look too well, seeming upset by something—though it’s an understatement.

“Well,” he lets out a short laugh. “I’ve had a crush on my partner like a total idiot. You think anything came of it?”

Himawari nods silently. Well, probably even gods can’t manipulate feelings.

Hidan grimaces. “Actually, I’m not even talking about that. I knew Kakuzu was dead—and I wanted him to live. The only damn time Jashin-sama heard my prayers... but it would’ve been too easy if He’d simply brought that asshole back to life.”

“But He did,” Himawari gives him a confused look. “Or... only for a while? Kakuzu said then he would die soon anyway. I thought it was some sort of jutsu, what was the name of the resurrection technique?”

“It’s not a jutsu,” Hidan replies grimly. “It’s a _great_ ,” his voice is clearly dripping with sarcasm, “gift to me from Jashin-sama. Yes, He had resurrected Kakuzu for a certain time, but if...” he hesitates, as if not sure how to word it.

“If he loved you,” Himawari says, smiling sadly. “That’s the condition, right? Jashin resurrected him for you, but if he doesn’t want to be with you, what do you need him for?”

“Yeah, you said it better.” Hidan closes his eyes. “It’s so stupid, really. And it’s all your father’s fault. Don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more than him.”

Himawari isn’t sure whether to say anything.

She understands him; it’s so easy to be mad at someone who’s in the way, thinking that it was him who took away your chance at happiness.

But it’s not about her father, really. If a person doesn’t love you, what can you do about it? Hidan himself said it before.

But maybe it’s harder for him to get over it than he pretends.

“Forget it,” Hidan says suddenly. “Seriously, just forget what I said here. Who cares.”

Forget words so sincere, so full of pain? As if that were possible.

“What do I mean to you?” Himawari asks uncertainly. After a confession like this she doesn’t know what to make of her strange relationship with him.

Does he love her, or is he just trying to fill the void in his heart with someone who happened to be near?

“You...” Hidan thinks for a few moments, but Himawari waits patiently. “You’re all I need. And the past is just the past.”

Himawari is so desperate to believe him, because to her, Hidan is the whole world—and even a little more.

***

“I’m starting to think you like tormenting me,” Naruto says, exhausted, closes his eyes, trying to gather himself.

Kakuzu doesn’t reply right away, still holding him; and, honestly, Naruto doesn’t really need an answer—he’s only talking to fill the awkward silence.

“Perhaps I do,” Kakuzu says, and it’s hard to understand if he’s serious or not. “Not that you don’t deserve it.”

Naruto sighs, smiling grimly—yes, he does. And probably something worse.

“I should leave.” Kakuzu pulls away, stroking his cheek lightly. “Don’t know if I’ll see you again.”

“Then stay,” Naruto catches his hand. “Really, you can stay, I... I want that.”

“Want your wife to see us together?” He doesn’t smile this time. “Or your obnoxious son... though if you want to start a fight, go ahead, but I won’t be a part of that.”

“Why are you like this,” Naruto says desperately, lowering his head, “why? I know what I did, I know it’s my fault, I hate myself every damn day, all these years—please, Kakuzu, don’t make it worse.”

_As if it could be worse._

He gives him a long, strange look, and in it somehow mix tenderness, anger and sorrow—and Naruto doesn’t know what to do.

“I’m... sorry,” Kakuzu finally says. “It wasn’t all your fault, to be honest—we both acted like complete idiots.”

“Maybe,” Naruto tries to smile but doesn’t succeed. “Hey... If we could start all over again, what would you do?”

“I don’t know.” Kakuzu touches his face again, and Naruto leans into the caress. “I probably would leave the Akatsuki—after all, they didn’t do me much good.”

“That’s right...” Naruto exhales. “It’s unfair, isn’t it?”

“Just like life is,” he shrugs.

They stay like this for a while, not saying anything. Then Kakuzu steps back, easily freeing himself from Naruto’s arms.

“Go to sleep, Naruto,” he says gently. “If I’m still alive tomorrow, I’ll come see you.”

It hurts Naruto to hear how easily Kakuzu speaks about this—isn’t he at all concerned that he is going to die soon? Even though death is something ordinary for shinobi, but it’s _his_ death, inevitable—how can he be so indifferent about it?

“I love you,” Naruto says with desperate hope—what else could he say now. “I really do.”

Kakuzu finally smiles—genuinely.

“I know.”

Once Naruto returns to the bedroom, he looks at Hinata—she’s still sleeping, undisturbed by Naruto’s absence, and it’s good.

He was afraid she’d wake up; it’s a wonder she didn’t, considering that at some point Naruto had just stopped trying to keep silent.

Hinata’s breath is calm and steady—too calm and steady, a frightening thought flashes, but Naruto chases it away.

It’s just paranoia—Hinata is sleeping, she couldn’t have heard or seen anything.

Naruto covers his face with his hands, remembering what just went down. What was he thinking about, why didn’t he stop—though this question follows him through his whole life, all his actions; what did Naruto think whenever he did something crazy.

“Hinata?” He touches her shoulder carefully, but she doesn’t wake up, only flinching reflexively.

Naruto holds back a sigh of relief—and hates himself for it.

He gets into the bed but can’t bring himself to hug Hinata as he should.

And almost till the morning he just lies here motionless, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about anything, until a heavy, restless sleep finally takes hold of him.

***

“Everything could’ve been different,” Hidan says. “If you weren’t such a dense asshole.”

Kakuzu’s lips twist in an attempt to grin, and Himawari suddenly notices that there are more of these strange cracks on his skin.

And it seems like he doesn’t have long.

“You make me sick,” Kakuzu doesn’t even look at Hidan.

“I know,” despite the frozen smile on his face, Hidan’s voice sounds serious and firm. “You said that all the time. But I still don’t get it.”

It hurts Himawari to see him like this, hurts to hear his words, but she remains silent.

“Who is the dense one now.” Kakuzu hesitates before adding awkwardly, “I _am_ sorry.”

“Fuck you.”

The way he says it makes Himawari’s heart shrink.

Kakuzu shrugs and turns away; it seems like he doesn’t really care.

He probably doesn’t—why would he? Himawari almost hates him now. _Almost_ —because people don’t choose what to feel, if Kakuzu loves her father and not Hidan, then it’s just how it is.

And what Himawari feels is so irrational: her heart aches for Hidan, and at the same time she’s happy that his feelings for Kakuzu remain unrequited, because it means he can love _her_.

And she thinks he does; why else would he ask her to kiss him then, why else would he want to be with her—it doesn’t make sense without love.

Maybe it’s naïve, but Himawari likes to think that.

“Farewell,” Kakuzu says. “I hope you stay immortal—I’ve had enough of your company for life.”

“Shit.” Hidan inhales deeply. “You can’t be normal even for once, can you?”

“Define ‘normal’,” Kakuzu almost seems to smile.

Hidan doesn’t.

Himawari keeps silent; she wouldn’t know what to say even if she wanted to interrupt them. This all seems like some farce, like none of it is real; or maybe it’s just her anxiety kicking in.

The look in Kakuzu’s eyes is close to regret, though Himawari isn’t sure what he regrets. Hidan never told her much of their history and what exactly went wrong, if anything. Maybe everything really was just an unfortunate turn of events, like he said. Maybe there was something else.

In their place, Himawari would want to talk this through—but it seems like it’s not an option for them.

“Hey, maybe I’ll actually miss you,” Hidan says.

“I won’t,” follows the reply.

And that seems to be the end of their friendly exchange. Kakuzu gives them a slight nod and leaves.

 _Finally,_ Himawari thinks.

“Now how fucked up is this,” Hidan mutters; and honestly, Himawari can relate.

“It’s not that bad,” she still says carefully. “I’m here.”

There’s unusual tenderness in Hidan’s eyes.

“Yes.” And he smiles. “You’re here.”

Himawari feels such strange calmness—she believes Hidan and believes his feelings for her.

And let the past stay the past—why dig it up?

Right now, they both have a chance to be happy.

***

_Yet again, Naruto is here, a place that brings back unwanted, painful memories of his betrayal._

_At first he thinks he’s alone, but then he feels like an intent gaze is fixed on him and looks around; to see a woman standing far away from him, long white hair flowing in the wind._

_Then he hears her voice, clear and melodic._

_“There always has to be a sacrifice.”_

_It resonates too deeply. He has made too many sacrifices, a lot of them—unnecessary, ones that could have been avoided._

_Someone else is next to the woman, on his knees and his head hung low, making him impossible to recognize._

_There is a hole in his chest, right where the heart is supposed to be; for some reason the wound is not bleeding._

_“Once placed under the curse, the soul is mine forever.”_

_With a swift movement she tilts the man’s head back, revealing Kakuzu's face. Empty and lifeless, his eyes stare right through Naruto, and it’s worse than anger or disdain._

_Naruto tries to step towards them, but some unknown force seems to bind him to the ground. He struggles against it, but to no avail._

_“Yet I can be grateful, Uzumaki Naruto.”_

_Kakuzu fades away, crumbling to ashes right before his eyes, and there’s nothing Naruto can do except stand and watch._

_Just like he had watched years ago._

_Helpless, Naruto turns his gaze to the woman—who’s smiling at him with a hint of condescendence._

_White hair, white eyes so resembling the Byakugan; who does she remind him of?_

_Naruto doesn’t have a chance to think about it as the world around them begins to collapse._

_Her voice is the last thing he hears before his consciousness drifts away._

_“I only require something of equal value.”_

Naruto wakes up alone, with a heavy head. Fragments of the dream still linger in his mind, but he doesn’t feel it in himself to make sense of what little he recalls.

It’s simply too much, everything that’s been going on; and Naruto is no stranger to weird dreams. The more he tries to remember, the more details blur, until it’s nothing more than a fuzzy mess of images and voices.

And honestly, it doesn’t really matter now.

Naruto still has a whole day ahead of him, and he needs to make a convincing impression that he’s fine.

Not like anyone would believe him.

A cup of slightly steaming coffee is placed in front of Naruto, and he raises his head. He meets Hinata’s gaze as she says, “Sweet, just how you like it.”

Naruto mutters a ‘thank you’, takes the hot cup, warming his hands, and hears Hinata add, “Or maybe not you, as it turns out.”

“What do you mean?” Naruto asks, feeling his insides twist.

Hinata smiles—her smile is strained and weak, and her eyes seem frozen.

“No, no, nothing.” Her fake smile grows wider, and she ruffles his hair. “Enjoy your coffee, Naruto-kun.”

She leaves, slamming the door—it’s so unlike her. Naruto looks down—he feels sick and for some reason wants to laugh, just as unnaturally as Hinata was smiling.

He doesn’t laugh, only takes a sip of sugary-sweet coffee, wincing—the taste is awful.

But it awakens so many memories, and Naruto can’t help but cling to them.

Soon he’ll have nothing left.

He can only hope that this ‘soon’ won’t come today or tomorrow—that he has at least a few more days.

The door opens again, and Naruto looks to the entrance—please, let it not be Hinata, he’s not ready to explain, not at all—he doesn’t know what to say.

To his relief, it’s Himawari—and she looks so happy. It’s so unusual to see her like this, as she’s been so down lately.

Himawari sits at the table next to him, saying, “Good morning, dad.”

“I wouldn’t it call exactly good,” Naruto forces a smile.

Himawari shrugs thoughtfully.

“Well, it’s good for me.”

It’s hard to argue with her on that. Naruto returns to staring at his half-empty cup of already cold coffee. He doesn’t really want to drink it or pour it out.

“It’s not your fault,” Himawari speaks suddenly. She touches his shoulder, stroking it gently, reassuringly. “I understand. It just... happens.”

Naruto looks at her, confused, and meets her tender sympathetic look.

“I’ve done a lot of things, too,” she chuckles sadly. “Though Hidan says it’s all because of you, but he’s just angry. Anyone would be angry, really.”

“Hidan?” Naruto repeats slowly. “Wait, but that’s...”

He knows this name—and the man who bore it, even if he’d only seen him once. It’s difficult not to remember someone like Hidan—if he’s the one Himawari is talking about.

But it’s impossible.

“Who is Hidan?” Naruto asks, but Himawari only smiles mysteriously.

“He’s... my friend,” she says.

Naruto thinks her cheeks turn slightly red when she says it, but maybe he’s imagining it.

“I should go now,” Himawari gets up. “I’ve got so much to do. You should also... wrap some things up, right?” she smiles, a strange glint in her eyes.

“Well, I intended to,” Naruto says, still dumbfounded, “work a bit more today.”

Himawari shakes her head, leans closer to look into his eyes.

“No, that’s not it. Today is the last day. You know what I mean, dad.”

Naruto wants to say that he doesn’t—but then the realization hits him.

Before he can ask how Himawari can know about this, she leaves—quickly, as if she’s in a hurry.

So, Hidan.

Naruto lowers his head.

Of course, it’s possible that it’s another guy with the same name... but considering everything else that Himawari said—

_What the hell is going on?_

***

This man looks directly at Naruto with undisguised hatred, and somehow he immediately understands that this is Hidan.

Naruto isn’t a coward, but something in Hidan is scaring the hell out of him—maybe this look, this desire to rip him apart right here and now.

Without saying anything, Kakuzu shoves Naruto behind his back, shielding him—and for a moment it seems like Hidan is going to attack them, but he stays in place.

“Are you out of your mind?” Hidan asks, seemingly nonchalant, weighing the scythe in his hands. “It’s the jinchūriki kid that Leader wants. What are you messing with him for?”

“None of your business.” Naruto wants to interfere, but he’s sure that Kakuzu won’t appreciate it; so he just watches.

“I bet Pein will be so damn happy when he knows...” Hidan doesn’t manage to finish—Kakuzu grabs him by throat, squeezing hard.

“He won’t know... because you won’t tell him,” Kakuzu says slowly. “Just saying... nobody will stop me from ripping your head off, burying it somewhere and showing your body to the Leader—perhaps we came across some cunning opponents who took your head with them, and the body alone is useless. Maybe my next partner will be more cooperative.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” something like panic slips into Hidan’s voice.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Kakuzu asks with a deceiving softness.

“Because I’m your partner?” Hidan tries to unclench the fingers gripping his neck, but to no avail. “Fuck, let me go already!”

“I’ve killed all my partners. Try again.”

Naruto does his best to hold back a laugh that’s so out of place right now.

He can’t really help it—this is so absurd it’s funny, and even though the laugh is mostly nervous, Naruto still snickers quietly.

Kakuzu lets go of his partner, not even caring that he falls to the ground, unable to stand.

“Relax,” he says to Naruto and puts a hand on his shoulder. “He won’t harm you.”

“Are you sure?” Hidan spits angrily, gets up—and takes a step forward.

“ _Hidan_.”

Somehow it works—Hidan freezes, staring at them silently.

In his eyes, Naruto clearly reads a desire to kill, and at the same time—acceptance.

Something seems weird, but Naruto can’t finish this thought.

“Oh, fuck that,” Hidan turns around. “Just get it over with, I ain’t gonna wait for you the whole night.”

  
  
“Finally,” Kakuzu says wearily when Hidan leaves.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?”

“There’s nothing to do,” he ruffles Naruto’s hair lightly, as if trying to distract him.

Naruto shakes his head. “He knows about us! He’ll tell your Leader, and...”

“He won’t,” Kakuzu doesn’t seem the least bit concerned.

Naruto doesn’t have time to object—Kakuzu quickly leans in and kisses him lightly, gently.

“It’s alright,” he says quietly before pulling away.

Naruto wouldn’t say that it is, he’s not sure that Hidan will keep silent, that he won’t try to kill him or that something else will happen. But for some reason he doesn’t say a word, only nods.

“He won’t hurt you,” Kakuzu seems to have guessed his thoughts. “No one will. I won’t let them. I told you, remember?”

“...I do,” Naruto presses his forehead against his shoulder, clutching at his cloak. “But still...”

“Do you trust me?”

Naruto does—but if he’s honest, he’s not really afraid for himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Naruto doesn’t manage to avoid the conversation, despite all his attempts. When he tries to sneak through the living room to his office, Hinata stops him. Her look leaves no choice, and Naruto sits at the table next to her.

He looks at her, silent, unable to say anything—and so Hinata speaks first.

“I understand, Naruto-kun,” she says softly, and though the pain is clear in her voice, there is no hint of anger. “I guess I just couldn’t give you what you really needed.”

It’s somewhat ironic, Naruto thinks, when Kakuzu said that Hinata was what he needed, and now Hinata says otherwise, even not knowing everything.

And though she’s right, it doesn’t really matter now. Familiar feeling of guilt twists his insides; he can’t even find words for an answer.

He can’t even look Hinata in the eyes.

The only thing he can manage is, “I’m sorry.”

And it seems like he’s apologized so many times that this word has lost its meaning—an empty, meaningless sound, so easily escaping from his lips and changing absolutely nothing.

Hinata chuckles bitterly at this.

“It’s okay, Naruto-kun. After all, I always... knew you didn’t love me as much as I loved you.”

Naruto wants to be somewhere far away from here, only to not see her sad and understanding look.

“Are you happy with him?”

“I could have been,” Naruto responds quietly. “It’s too late.” For everything.

Hinata reaches out, covering his hand with hers, squeezing gently.

“Naruto-kun, I’m not keeping you. Boruto and Himawari are old enough to understand. You can leave if you want to. It’s okay, really.”

Naruto shakes his head, pressing his lips; he almost feels like crying now, hearing her words. Hinata doesn’t even know how deeply this hurts.

“It’s really not,” he manages to say. He doesn’t know how to explain without telling the truth—which he can’t do.

“Is he... the man you’re with... does he have a family, too?” Hinata asks quietly.

“It’s... complicated. I can’t... I’m sorry. Hinata, I’m sorry.”

Maybe it’s better if she thinks that. That he’s having an affair with someone from Konoha, someone who also wants to keep this secret.

And when... perhaps he’ll say that they broke it off. Things won’t be the same—how could they?—but perhaps in time he’ll be able to let it go.

Who is he kidding.

Naruto lowers his head, closes his eyes and tries his hardest not to think.

He’s so caught up in his lies; and it seems like he has finally ruined everything.

***

“Sasuke-san,” Himawari exclaims as she notices a familiar figure slowly walking from the gates, and rushes towards him.

She’s so happy to see him; not for the reason he must be assuming, but it doesn’t matter.

“Hello, Himawari,” Sasuke says calmly, but with a hint of warmth. “It’s been a long time.”

It has—when was the last time he appeared in Konoha? A year ago or more, she thinks.

Himawari can’t help but think that she is incredibly lucky that he’s back right now. Of course, she could have chosen someone else, there’s bound to be another who is fitting—but Sasuke is so strong; the best choice.

“I need to see Naruto. Would you show me the way?” Sasuke asks.

He knows the way to their house, obviously, just like to the Hokage’s residence, but he doesn’t seem averse to a little chat with his old friend’s daughter.

A good chance for Himawari.

“Don’t you want to visit Sakura-san and Sarada?” she asks and adjusts her hair, suddenly feeling the need to occupy her hands with something. She’s too nervous; this isn’t good.

Sasuke smiles just barely.

“Later.”

So he hadn’t spoken to them yet. Himawari managed to intercept him, and that must mean no one is likely to look for him any time soon.

“An interesting weapon you have,” Sasuke notes, frowning slightly as he inspects the scythe behind her back closely, and Himawari nods.

“Yes, I... wanted to try it out. I’ve been training on my own, you see, but it would be more efficient to test it in an actual fight.”

Is he suspecting something? Does he recognize the weapon?

But Sasuke only says, tangibly skeptical, “I can already see that it’s too big and heavy for you. Unless you have worked out a way around that disadvantage..?” He makes a long pause, as if waiting for her to finish the sentence.

“I have, and I’d love to show you!” Himawari says eagerly.

Sasuke may appear cold and indifferent on the surface, but he does have a softer side. He rarely shows it with someone who’s not family, but considering how close he and father are, perhaps Himawari falls into that category.

She feels another tug of conscience, but it’s so faint she just ignores it.

***

Himawari recites the lines to herself—a battle prayer, asking for Jashin’s grace and strength. She’s memorized by heart these words Hidan told her; and now, she feels confidence and calm envelop her.

She’s not alone—Jashin guides her hand.

Somehow, she manages to avoid almost all of Sasuke’s attacks and deflect the ones she does miss; as though she can predict his movements way ahead.

At times, it even feels as if her body is moving before she realizes that Sasuke is about to strike.

Himawari isn’t the type to fool herself; not ready to believe that she’s really gotten so good, she tries to dispel the genjutsu a few times, earning a slight approving nod from Sasuke.

Is it a sign? Has she been trapped in his illusion from the beginning? It would be a likely trick from him, and in that case, her plan has already failed.

Only now, locked in this deadly dance with him, Himawari thinks back on all she’s done and trembles at the realization of how careless she’s been.

And the thought that maybe she can still back down.

But then the words of the prayer sound in her head, and her mind is clear again.

She has a goal—it’s right in front of her.  
  
Sasuke doesn’t see their fight as anything more than a warm-up, and it seems that he’s somewhat relaxed. It might very well be a ploy, but Himawari takes her chance.

It’s not like she can stop now.

Not like she can stop at all.

How does her body know the move she’s never trained, how does it come so easily?

“You should be more attentive, Himawari,” Sasuke says, seemingly amused.

He underestimates her.

Does she overestimate herself?

The blades are behind him, a missed throw—or one that hit exactly where it was meant to.

She grips the rope attached to the hilt of the scythe, yanks it hard towards herself—and her body feels not her own as she does that.

Time seems to slow down.

In the last second, Sasuke _notices_ —but is too late to react.

And the next moment, his head is falling to the ground, blood spilling everywhere.

Himawari freezes, a frightened expression on her face, only partly fake— _I didn’t want this, it was an accident_ —and then she forms the seal, whispering, ‘kai’.

It could be an illusion.

But it seems like it’s not.

She did it.

She killed Uchiha Sasuke—and this thought makes her laugh.

She did it.

Sasuke was so strong—and lost to her so easily? It’s hard to believe.

Perhaps it is because he trusted her, did not expect such _betrayal_ from her—who would have?

Himawari is so young and sweet, not looking dangerous at all—can she really hurt someone so easily?

 _She can_.

Himawari is capable of so many things that nobody suspects.

Perhaps she does feel guilty, just a little—after all, Sasuke is... was a good man. Yet she never knew him well enough to miss him, and so now she’s staring at his lifeless body on the bloodied grass, no emotion sparking in her heart.

Himawari thinks that Hidan will like it—Sasuke is in an excellent shape.

A pity that one arm is missing, but it can always be _borrowed_ from someone else.

Why not? It must be so convenient when you’re immortal. You can easily replace the missing parts.

Himawari laughs, and it’s as if somebody echoes the laughter right beside her.

***

“Holy shit,” is the only thing Hidan says when Himawari drags Sasuke’s body to their shelter. “You really did it. No, seriously—holy shit.”

“I hope that’s a compliment,” Himawari says with a grin.

“It is,” Hidan chuckles.

Himawari doesn’t waste words anymore. She leans Sasuke’s body against the wall, placing the head near.

She’s a little afraid; what if it won’t work, what if it’s all in vain? But Hidan seems to be quite certain, so she discards her worry. Everything will be alright; it can’t be any other way.

She picks up Hidan’s head carefully; he gives her a reassuring smile, and Himawari finally calms down.

It takes a while, and it’s a messy work, if she’s honest. She has to make sure everything is right, that the head connects to the neck perfectly; and it means that she has to inflict some new wounds. Hidan isn’t fond of the idea, but it has to be done; and though with loud curses, he bears through it.

Putting his head to the neck, Himawari holds her breath for a moment before activating the technique, faint green glow enveloping her palms.

It takes a lot of time, far more than when treating simple cuts, but eventually the pieces of flesh begin to knit together.

“Fuck,” Hidan exhales, staring at her, wide-eyed. “Fuck, it’s... really working.”

“You didn’t doubt me, did you?” Himawari chuckles, to which Hidan only rolls his eyes.

Finally, everything seems to be done, and Himawari removes her hands, deactivating the technique.

“Well... how is it?” she asks.

Hidan hesitantly turns his head around, flexing his neck; tries to raise his hand and exclaims, delighted, when he succeeds.

Himawari smiles, looking at him. She doesn’t hide how proud she is—because it’s her who made this possible.

“Kid...” Hidan looks at her. “You have no idea how fucking amazing this is.”

He doesn’t say thanks, but Himawari can see the gratitude in his eyes, and it’s enough for her.

“What shall we do with the eyes?” Himawari muses while Hidan keeps testing his new body’s ability to move. He stops and glances at her, a familiar smirk showing that he knows what she’s thinking; and Himawari returns the smile. “Which one would you rather have?”

Hidan thinks for a while. “The Sharingan might come in handy,” he says. “And the Rinnegan, well, I don’t even know what to do with it. Besides, I think it’d suit you more. Pretty color,” Hidan reaches out, brushing his fingers along her cheek. “Just for you.”

Himawari giggles, and he laughs too; they must look utterly mad now, all covered in blood.

Without hesitation, Hidan rips out his right eye, while Himawari carefully removes Sasuke’s. Not a pleasant task, but one she has to endure, and so she stifles her emotions; the time for doubts has long passed.

Himawari touches Hidan’s bloodied face, a little uncertain, and he chuckles. “Why don’t you kiss it better?”

Himawari giggles again and kisses his lips, wet with blood.

In a few moments, she pulls away—no time to waste.

Transplanting the eye is a delicate task, but Sakura’s lessons have not been in vain. Himawari knows what she’s doing, and her hands almost don’t tremble.

Clear the eye socket from blood, place the new eye in there; Hidan winces and hisses—the sensations must be far from pleasant—but doesn’t move, knowing he’ll only make it worse.

As she’s done with this, Himawari activates the jutsu—it’ll help with the initial healing, and Hidan’s incredible regeneration will do the rest.

  
“Well, how does it feel?” she asks. Hidan blinks, looking around.

The Sharingan is active, as expected; people not from the Uchiha clan can’t fully control it. Bright red iris, three tomoe around the pupil; it looks strange, seeing this eye on Hidan’s face.

But it suits him.

“Great,” Hidan concludes after a while. “Though I can already feel it draining my chakra.”

“You should cover the eye,” Himawari says. “I’ll look for something...”

“Later,” he says. “We have to deal with you first. You’re gonna be hella strong, yeah, Hima-chan?”

“I think so,” Himawari smiles, looking at Sasuke’s Rinnegan—which will soon belong to her.

And when Hidan gouges out her left eye, she keeps smiling—and makes no sound.

***

_Himawari._

She shudders but doesn’t open her eyes, still not sure if she really heard it.

Is it real? Is it actually happening?

_More real than you can imagine._

This time, she hears the voice clearly.

The best way she can describe it is... cold. Like a chilly breeze going through her, it makes her shiver; but at the same time calms her.

And perhaps it’s her imagination, but it also sounds... feminine?

“Jashin-sama,” she whispers, hoping that her own voice doesn’t betray her.

_I have many hopes for you._

What kind of hopes could a god possibly have for her; how could she fulfill them? These words flatter her and frighten at the same time.

There’s a movement of air, impossibly close to her, but no more sound, no touch. Himawari freezes, anticipating _something_ —she doesn’t know what; but nothing happens.

The feeling of the presence disappears, and suddenly she becomes aware of the weight of the blade in her hands and the pain in her chest.

And only then does she realize that she’s _alive._

Himawari glances at Sasuke’s head. She doesn’t recognize Sasuke now, to be honest; it’s just a dead head, quite pathetic; and the missing eyes make this impression stronger.

The Rinnegan feels like it has always been hers. She sees more clearly, feels such incredible strength, and it seems to her that she could move mountains now.

She probably can; she only has to learn to control this power, but she has time—eternity.

And she will not be alone.

“Great job, kiddo,” Hidan comes up to her from behind. “Even I couldn’t have done better.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, turning to him. “How was your ritual?”

Hidan gives her a soft grin; there’s even more blood on him, his own now, and the deep wound on his chest is gradually healing on its own. It’s amazing, Himawari thinks, he is amazing.

The wound that she inflicted on herself in the same ritual took a lot longer to heal, even with the medical technique. She still has a long way to go, even with Jashin’s grace with her.

The only thing in which she and Hidan disagree is that pain can be pleasant. Not at all, she thinks.

But that doesn’t matter.

“Not bad. You know, I feared that Jashin-sama had left me. But no, He’s still with me.” He adds thoughtfully, “I’m glad that He has accepted you, too. Not that I doubted, you’re worthy... but it’s not for me to decide.”

“Yeah... Hidan, you refer to Jashin-sama as ‘He’, but I heard a lady’s voice.”

“The way Jashin-sama appears to us reflects our perception of the world, or something like that.” Hidan explains, a little clumsily. “That’s how I’ve been taught. You heard Him... Her like this because that’s what your subconscious expected. It’s difficult, I don’t fully grasp it, but it differs for people. The priest who taught me... he told me he saw Jashin-sama as a great beast. I had never _seen_ Him, only heard His voice. But it sounded male to me.” Hidan shrugs. “I don’t think it matters. Gods are beyond all that anyway.”

“That... makes sense,” Himawari admits. It’s not like she knows a lot about gods, but defining them with human terms is probably foolish. “What really matters is that Jashin-sama accepted me, as you said.” She frowns a little. “So you had a teacher... there were other worshippers?”

“Was.” Hidan’s look darkens for a second. “There was only my mentor, an empty temple and lots of ancient writings, half of them indecipherable. And then he was gone.”

“Gone..?” Himawari hesitates. “Wasn’t he immortal, too?”

“He was. I didn’t say he died, just that he was gone. Disappeared into nowhere. Maybe he’s off travelling the world, maybe he’s back to the temple, maybe he’s buried somewhere like I was...” Hidan grimaces. “Who knows.”

“We could look for him,” Himawari offers. “After we’re done here.”

“I’d love to see his face when he learns that not only did I survive, I also got myself a disciple of my own,” he laughs. “Honestly, I’m up for anything. I’ve missed being alive. Like, really alive.”

“Well, you’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Himawari smiles.

Hidan grins and pulls her into an embrace. Himawari snuggles closer to him; it’s even better than she imagined all this time. Him actually holding her. She feels warm, safe and just so... right.

“Hey,” she whispers and chuckles, a sudden thought crossing her mind. “Maybe I know where we should start. Catching up.”

Hidan lets out a confused laugh. “Huh? And what’s your idea?”

“Can’t you guess?” moving away, Himawari narrows her eyes and smiles, while everything inside her freezes in anticipation.

“Are you implying what I think you are?” Hidan looks amused, but not really in a way she’d expect. It’s like he considers her funny. Like he thinks she’s not serious.

“Depends on what you think.” Himawari isn’t good at this—flirting?—and maybe she should just say it outright. But even this is unusually bold for her.

Her courage—or stupidity, which is all the same—is exciting, sending shiver through her body, and she faces Hidan’s intent look.

After a while, he finally speaks, “Careful, Hima-chan.” He reaches out to stroke her cheek, and she closes her eyes, enjoying the touch. “I might actually take you up on that.”

“So come on,” Himawari raises her head, slightly parting her lips. “You think I’m just saying that?”

“Who knows,” Hidan smirks before kissing her—and it’s different this time, more confident, subduing her—

And Himawari doesn’t mind.

She’s been waiting for it.

Now everything is much better when Hidan embraces her, holds her close; when Himawari can feel the heat of his body, this incomparable sense of security in his arms.

It’s new, strange, and even somewhat frightening, but Himawari knows that Hidan will not harm her.

She trusts him—and gives herself to him completely.

Hidan lays her on the ground, cold and still wet with yet fresh blood, the ritual circle they’ve drawn, and Himawari can’t help but think that this is another sacred rite. As though Hidan is preparing to seal their union—their feelings—in front of Jashin, and if so, Himawari is ready too.

All of her senses sharpen, excitement mixing with nervousness, and the kisses alone drive her mad. Cool morning air is a sharp contrast to her hot bare skin, and Himawari shudders, presses closer to him, so that they become one, never to be separated.

“Hush,” Hidan breathes, kissing the corner of her lips, “so impatient.” Somewhat clumsily—the limitations of only having one arm, he removes what remains of her clothes, and Himawari clutches onto his shoulders, breathing ragged.

Completely naked in front of him, she feels ashamed for a moment, but the feeling passes quickly—everything is as it should be, there’s nothing to fear.

Hidan pulls away, looking her over, and the look in his eyes is that of admiration—and love, Himawari thinks, maybe.

She reaches out, takes his face in her hands and stares at him.

She can’t look away, still can’t quite believe he’s hers now.

“What is it?” Hidan looks at her blankly. “Something wrong? Did I hurt you or something?”

“How could anyone reject you?” Himawari whispers, stroking his face. “You’re so... wonderful, amazing.”

“Himawari...” He frowns, and it seems like the old pain is still in his eyes.

“I don’t know what kind of person would prefer another to you,” Himawari continues, moves to kiss him.

Hidan responds but breaks the kiss almost immediately, says hastily, “A total idiot,” he presses his lips against her neck, exhaling, “That’s enough, shut up, forget it, you’re here, I want you.”

He kisses her, hand trailing along her body, and Himawari feels another shiver run through her.

She stops him, unexpectedly even for herself, and looks into his eyes.

She has to, just has to tell him—he has to know how important he is to her, how much she needs him—

That without him, she could neither live nor die.

“What is it again,” Hidan mutters.

“I love you,” Himawari says, wraps her arms around his neck, pressing closer against him. “I love you so much,” she kisses him quickly, hastily, and her face burns with both embarrassment and excitement.

For a few painfully long seconds Hidan is silent, and Himawari keeps holding him, waiting for the reply— _please, say something, just tell me_ —

“I know,” Hidan presses her into the ground, “I know,” he repeats, not taking his eyes, feverishly bright, away from her.

And the way he looks at her tells her more than any words.

It’s all she dared to dream of.

“You don’t regret this?” Himawari asks, snuggling closer to Hidan.

Lying on the cold ground isn’t as comfortable now that the moment of passion has passed; but Hidan is here, and she can deal with any inconvenience.

“What would I regret, kid?” Hidan looks at her—it’s so weird to see his eyes have a different color.

But beautiful, too.

“I don’t know,” she says. “That it’s me? And not him.”

Hidan rolls his eyes and reaches to ruffle her already disheveled hair.

“I will, if you continue to be so dumb. But—no. You’re a hundred times better than that asshole.”

“Because I love you?” Himawari asks.

She isn’t certain herself why she began this conversation; maybe she just wants to make sure one more time.

“Not just that.” Hidan is silent for a few moments, studying her intently. “Well... You’re you. Better. And simply... different. In a good way.” He chuckles quietly. “And hey, it’s kinda dumb to be heartbroken over something that happened years ago. Time to move on, don’t you think?”

Himawari nods slowly. Indeed, it’s long overdue.

“Good,” Hidan kisses her quickly and gets up. “Come,” he holds out his hand, and Himawari accepts it. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

“That’s right,” Himawari smiles.

Something tells her that everything is going to be alright now.

***

  
Naruto presses his hands to his face and takes a deep breath. The conversation with Hinata has drained him, and he could feel that she still had a lot of questions. It was tearing him apart to see the understanding in her eyes, and yet he couldn’t even come up with a convincing lie, much less find the courage to tell her the truth.

And even so, he’s hurt her, something he never intended to do but did too many times over the years.

And the worst part was that Hinata didn’t blame him, wasn’t angry with him—when Naruto more than deserved it. Her accepting his faults made him feel even more guilty.

Now, he had no idea what to do.

 _Today’s the last day,_ Himawari’s words ring in his mind, and he shudders.

How could she know? Did she even know, or was it a wild guess or something completely unrelated? Maybe her words didn’t mean what Naruto assumed they did.

Still, he can’t stop thinking about it; fearing it.

He has no idea where to find Kakuzu. It almost seems like he doesn’t want to be found; or perhaps he is already _gone_. Naruto tries to chase the painful thought away from his mind, but it keeps coming back.

Along with all the others.

He doesn’t know what will happen after, but he knows that nothing will be the same. His family, it seems, has fallen apart completely; and what does he have left? His title, something he’s dreamed so long about, now holds no meaning to him.

Naruto knows he’ll still have to go on like nothing has changed, but now he just feels so lost.  
  
A gust of wind tears him from his thoughts, but he hesitates to look back until he hears a familiar voice.

“Naruto.”

And he turns around, an uncertain smile ready to appear on his face—but freezes the moment he sees Kakuzu.

“It seems I have less time than I’d thought.”

He holds out his hand, skin covered in thin cracks that are getting deeper by the second, and Naruto quickly grabs it.

“Still, I’m here.” It seems like he hesitates, and Naruto acts first, pulling him closer.

He wraps his arms around him, presses his face against his shoulder. He wants to say something, but words just don’t come out.

They don’t have time. They never had time.

Kakuzu places his hands on Naruto’s shoulders, but this time his firm hold doesn’t calm him.

Is this really how it’s going to end?

“I don’t want this,” he whispers hoarsely, “I don’t want this, don’t want you to die.”

“I’m already dead,” Kakuzu says—as if it’s nothing.

Naruto doesn’t know if he really doesn’t care or just hides it well; but his calmness somehow makes this even worse.

“Don’t you dare cry again,” Kakuzu runs a hand along his wet cheek. “Seriously.”

Naruto is trying not to—but he just _can’t_.

It’s so stupid.

 _All_ of this.

Naruto looks at him, watching the cracked skin begin to peel off, and he knows that there’s little time left.

And in this little time, Naruto doesn’t know what to say or do to fix at least something.

He feels like there’s so much he needs to tell him, but feelings and chaotic thoughts don’t form into meaningful words, and there’s no way he could convey any of that.

Kakuzu ruffles Naruto’s hair, making him wince—and smile; he’ll miss even this little thing.

Everything.

“At least this time we get to say farewell,” Kakuzu looks at him.

It’s hard to maintain a smile when he’s literally falling apart before his eyes, when in mere moments he’ll be gone.

“I’m... sorry. That it happened this way.”

_That I killed you. That I hadn’t realized sooner how I really felt about you. That I couldn’t fix anything._

_That we just didn’t have a chance._

“I... am too.”

Naruto wants to say something else, not to part so _awkwardly_ , but Kakuzu doesn’t even let him begin, taking his face in his hands and kissing his forehead lightly.

“Don’t leave,” Naruto exhales. “Please. I can’t lose you again.”

Kakuzu grins almost gently.

“A little too late.”

In the next moment, he is gone.

His ring remains on Naruto’s hand, and bitterness and anguish inside him.

He keeps thinking stubbornly that things could have been different, if at some point things had gone another way. But it has already happened, and the only thing he can do is accept it.

And it’s perhaps the most difficult.

Naruto clenches his fists, bites his lip; he knew it would happen, he was prepared for this—

And yet he _wasn’t_ prepared.

The sound of the door opening makes him raise his head.

Himawari enters the room without knocking, as if she knew he was alone. She looks pale and exhausted, and her headband is covering her left eye, in a similar fashion to Kakashi’s a long time ago, when he still had Obito’s Sharingan.

It looks strange, isn’t she too old for something so childish? And why would she even do this?

Then he notices a box in her hands, wrapped with red ribbon. Another weirdness, but Naruto’s mind refuses to process anything now. Someone might’ve given her a present. That must be it.

“Is he gone?” Himawari asks suddenly.

Naruto attempts to feign ignorance, but it fails; Himawari shakes her head.

“I already know, dad. No need for excuses.”

Stifling a sigh, Naruto lowers his head. It feels like there’s a void inside him, and the only thing he can think about now is the fact that Kakuzu is not here.

And will never be.

It was _wrong_ ; Naruto shouldn’t have given into him—again, shouldn’t have let his feelings overcome him again.

Over the years he’s almost come to terms with his loss, and then fate, as if in mockery, let him see Kakuzu again, relive all the passion and tenderness again.

To strip him of everything in seconds, leaving him even more devastated than he had felt then.

“He’s dead,” Naruto says, and these words hurt too much. “It’s over.” He adjusts the ring on his finger, the only reminder left.

Himawari nods, surprisingly understanding; but it would have been easier for Naruto if she shouted at him or something like this.

“You loved him?” she asks.

“No,” Naruto replies. “I love him. Still love him. But... it’s too late.”

“I know,” Himawari says softly. “Some mistakes can’t be fixed... but it’s not your fault. Or not just yours, at least.” She stares into the window for a while, clearly deep in her thoughts, and then adds, “I’m leaving Konoha. Not sure when I’ll be back, but I thought you should know.”

“You’re leaving?” he asks. “But...”

“Don’t worry, dad.” Himawari glances at the window once again, and then suddenly hands the box to him. “Here. It’s for you.”

“What is it?” Naruto asks, taking the box and shaking it slightly. It’s heavy, but it’s not clear what’s inside.

Himawari shrugs and smiles.

“A gift. From Sasuke-san.” There’s a mischievous glint in her eye not hidden by the headband.

“Oh,” Naruto says, because there’s nothing really to say.

Sasuke sent him a gift? Though it’s not as strange as everything else that has been going on.

“Say goodbye to mom for me, okay?” Himawari says.

As the sun rays come through the window, Naruto notices a familiar pendant on her neck, inverted triangle in a circle.

Himawari catches his gaze, and her smile grows wider.

“Why can’t you do it yourself?” Naruto frowns. “And where are you going? For how long?”

Himawari only gives him another smirk in response, and then jumps out of the open window. With such ease—and such hurry.

Where is she rushing to?

Naruto doesn’t know and has no chance to ask.

He knows that it would be wise to follow her, yet he can’t bring himself to move or do anything at all.

Everything happened too quickly. He wasn’t ready. For the first time in his life, it seems, he doesn’t feel like he can handle it.

Naruto looks down, at the box he’s still holding.

A gift. From Sasuke. The more he repeats these words in his head, the weirder they sound. It’s not like him. Why would he do this?

Is it actually not from him at all? Himawari said so many strange things lately. Something is going on with her. Definitely going on.

Why did she mention Hidan that time?

Naruto feels dizzy, trying to make sense of what is happening.

He doesn’t want to. He has to.

Slowly, he removes the ribbon and opens the box.

And throws it away in horror.

Bloodied face, mouth opened in a silent scream, Sasuke’s severed head is staring at him.

He has no eyes.

_Don’t look, don’t look, don’t think_ ; Naruto forces himself to look away from the head on the floor, rises on his trembling legs. His hands are shaking too, just like his whole body; _it’s not true, not real, Himawari couldn’t have, couldn’t have—_

There’s a knock at the door, and Naruto turns around sharply.

“Naruto-kun, is everything okay?” Hinata’s voice, clearly worried.

Naruto grits his teeth, shaking his head—no, this can’t be happening.

Himawari’s calm, serene smile—she was completely unfazed by this ‘gift’.

How could she—if she had done this—behave so calmly...

No, what is he thinking—Himawari couldn’t have killed Sasuke, she...

She just couldn’t.

Hinata repeats her question, but Naruto can’t find his voice. He stumbles across the room, feeling like he’s suffocating, trying to take a breath but failing.

“Naruto-kun!” Her voice is more insistent now.

What if she comes in?

She’ll see.

Naruto can’t let her see.

He glances at the door madly. Lock it. Seal it. He can’t let her in. Not now.

He must find Himawari first.

Maybe it’s just a joke, a cruel and stupid joke, but it’s better than believing that she really had killed Sasuke—it can’t be, it can’t be really happening to him.

Naruto rushes out through the window, still sensing the faint trail of Himawari’s chakra; he must get to her as soon as possible.

He feels freezing cold spread through his body—and pain, unbearable, tearing him apart. He still thinks that it’s not true, that he’ll make it right, bring Himawari home and things will be alright—

He _has to_ fix this.

***

Naruto thinks he sees her. Even though the silhouette in front of him is hard to make out because of the bright sun, but he senses that Himawari is here.

_Just like somebody else._

“Himawari!” he shouts, and the person ahead stops, turns around.

It’s not her.

The man laughs, and the world around begins to blur.

The last thing Naruto remembers is the familiar black and red pattern of the Sharingan flashing before his eyes.

Then darkness surrounds him.

“Naruto.” Someone shakes him by the shoulder gently. “Naruto. Wake up.”

Naruto struggles to open his eyes. It’s so dark, though he remembers it being midday. Did he lost track of time again, consumed by the work?

“You’re alright.” There’s clear relief in... Kakuzu’s voice.

Naruto jumps to his feet immediately, nearly falling. Kakuzu glances at him, grinning slightly, and he looks so... _alive._

As if he had never died.

“Y-you...” Naruto says weakly. “How? You died, I saw that...”

“Does it matter?”

Kakuzu steps towards him and pulls him into an embrace—Naruto wants to return it, but he still doesn’t believe that this is happening.

“What happened... Where’s Himawari? _Sasuke_?” he asks, completely at a loss.

“Your daughter is fine, and I have no idea about the Uchiha,” Kakuzu replies flatly.

“But Sasuke... Himawari brought to me... his head...” Naruto says, starting to doubt.

Or was it just a dream?

Is _this_ a dream?

Kakuzu chuckles lightly.

“Must’ve been a nightmare.” He holds him closer, whispering, “It’s alright, Naruto. I’m here. And I won’t disappear again.”

Naruto shudders. There’s something... something not right but he can’t quite grasp what.

The words which should be calming don’t help at all.

“I love you,” Kakuzu says, stroking his back. “It’s going to be okay, Naruto. Everything’s gonna be okay now, don’t you trust me?”

‘I do’ gets stuck in his throat. The _wrongness_ feels stronger; something’s _not right_ , and it’s not even about Kakuzu suddenly saying that he loves him when he never did before. It’s _the way_ he speaks now; Naruto doesn’t feel anything familiar in these words or this tone.

“What’s the matter, Naruto? Aren’t you happy?” Kakuzu pulls away, looking at him, and Naruto freezes, _not recognizing_ him. For a moment, an openly mocking grin appears on his face.

“Who are you?” Naruto exhales, pushing him away.

The unpleasant smirk grows wider, twisting the familiar face, and he laughs—loudly and unnaturally.

He lowers his head, shoulders trembling slightly; Naruto steps back, looking at him intently, and isn’t even surprised when the man himself starts to transform. His hair becomes shorter, lighter; lighter is his skin, the scars disappear—just like his left arm for some reason.

Hidan looks at him again, grinning; Naruto recognizes him now, even though he’s changed somewhat over the years.

And he looks at him with the same hostility as he did back then, outright hatred which makes blood freeze in his veins, even though Naruto has no reason to fear him.

Suddenly, Naruto notices Hidan’s right eye, burning red. Sharingan?

_Sasuke. The pieces come together in his mind; so Hidan took his eye, then? Where’s the other one then?_

Why is Naruto thinking about it now.

_Himawari was covering her eye. She must have it, the Rinnegan... was this all because of that?_

How did they... How could they? How did they manage to defeat Sasuke, to...

It still feels unreal—it’s Sasuke, he couldn’t die, he couldn’t have died—disappear...

_Though didn’t Naruto think the same about Kakuzu—and what now._

He doesn’t even feel pain, only deafening emptiness.

“Well,” Hidan’s hand grabs him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Naruto tries to breathe, get free; but he can’t. “We finally meet.”

“What do you want?” Naruto manages to mutter, looking into his eyes, mad with anger; it seems like he’s about to kill him.

It’s not so bad. Naruto would accept death—if it weren’t for Himawari. He has to make sure that she’s alright first.

“I really fucking wanna kill you now,” Hidan exhales. “Give me one reason not to.”

There are none. Hidan has no reason to pity him or spare him. If he hates him so, Naruto will not convince him.

He doesn’t want to.

Not like he has anything to live for.

“Kill me if you wish,” Naruto says quietly. “Just tell me what happened to Himawari.”

“She’s fine,” Hidan smiles almost dreamily, but the smile fades soon. “She doesn’t need you. She’ll be fine without you.”

Naruto nods silently, not knowing what to say to that.

“Though she doesn’t want me to kill you... but we won’t tell her, will we? She doesn’t need to know.”

“Don’t tell her,” Naruto mutters.

Hidan grins again.

“I’ll take care of her,” he says. “Much better than you did. Fuck, if you only knew how,” he grips Naruto’s throat tighter, not letting him breathe, “I _hate_ you.”

For what though, Naruto thinks, although it probably doesn’t matter now. Naruto deserves to be hated; he’d be surprised if Hidan greeted him like an old friend.

And this is expected.

Hidan suddenly releases him, and Naruto falls to his knees, clutching at his throat, breathing frantically. His lungs are being torn apart, his head is spinning from lack of oxygen, and everything before his eyes blurs again.

“Because of you,” Hidan’s face closes in, “because of you I failed again... Shit, I knew that Kakuzu was one stubborn son of a bitch, but you! If it weren’t for you, it would’ve worked,” and he laughs, mad joy and pain mixed together. “You seem to like ruining my whole damn life, it seems.”

“What does... Kakuzu have to do with this,” Naruto manages to say, regaining his breath.

“You still don’t understand,” he says with disgust. “No matter. I’ll still kill you.”

Then do it, Naruto thinks, stop talking.

He doesn’t understand and, honestly, doesn’t want to understand what’s going on here. He’s just tired, so tired of losing people dear to him, tired of trying to change something, only to have his attempts be in vain.

“I’d have tortured you,” Hidan mutters distraughtly, “I’ve been imagining it, making you suffer. But looking at you now... pretty pathetic. Think you’ve had enough. I’ll grant you a quick death, look how generous I am today.” He laughs again.

Naruto says nothing. Not even when a blade is pressed to his neck.

Just a little more, and it will cut through the skin.

Naruto is not afraid. He doesn’t care.

He wouldn’t have cared even if Hidan did torture him.

“You have no idea,” Hidan’s voice sounds almost tender, “how long I’ve dreamed about it.”

The blade cuts in deep, and Naruto feels blood gushing from his throat, feels cold creeping to his heart; but there’s no pain.

“Have fun dying,” Hidan smiles widely, and his ( _Sasuke’s_ ) Sharingan seems unnaturally bright in the surrounding darkness.

Naruto’s vision darkens; he manages only to see Hidan begin to walk away.

 _Himawari_ , is the last thought in his dying mind.

***

A sudden slap across his face makes him open his eyes—and meet Hinata’s gaze, full of tears and anger.

“H-Hinata,” Naruto says blankly, and she slaps him with an open palm again, sucking air through her clenched teeth, stifling a sob.

Hinata...

What’s the matter?

What’s wrong?

“Where. Is. Our. Daughter?” Hinata asks abruptly, not taking her eyes off him. “Naruto-kun, _where_ is Himawari?”

“It was a genjutsu,” Naruto says. “It was... just a... damn!”

He punches the ground, ignoring tears streaming down his face.

“Quit it, Naruto-kun!” Hinata yells, not hiding pain and anger in her voice, grabs his shoulders. “Tell me, _what’s going on_?”

“What have you done?” Sakura, appearing out of nowhere, asks quietly; and for some reason it’s her almost inaudible voice that breaks Naruto’s stupor. He looks around, seeing that it's not just her—Shikamaru and Kakashi are also here.

“What Himawari has done,” he corrects, and something forces him to laugh, twisting his insides. “So that’s how it is!..”

Naruto laughs again, bursting into laughter, ignoring confused and even frightened looks of his friends; laughs—and this laughter hurts so much for some reason, hurts more than—

Just _hurts._

“What do you mean by that?” Sakura asks.

Naruto stops laughing just as suddenly as he began; the realization hits him hard.

_She doesn’t know._

Sakura doesn’t know what happened to Sasuke, doesn’t know that his head is now lying on the floor in Naruto’s bedroom, doesn’t know that his eyes are shared between Hidan and Himawari.

Naruto doesn’t know how to tell her that, and he’s just silent, devastated, unable to face her.

“Explain,” Shikamaru speaks up, serious and firm. “What did you mean when you mentioned Hidan?”

Naruto turns to him helplessly.

“Himawari... she freed him. I think. How else... could I have seen him.”

“Himawari? It can’t be!” Sakura exclaims, and Shikamaru frowns and nods to himself, as if this doesn’t surprise him.

“Perhaps,” Kakashi says. “But what _exactly_ happened? What genjutsu were you talking about?”

Naruto shakes his head—he doesn’t have time, he’ll have to tell them too much, and he _won’t be able to_ , they won’t understand. Even Sakura won’t, not now, not _like this_.

“Hidan... caught me in an illusion,” is the only thing he manages to say.

“But Hidan can’t use such techniques,” Shikamaru frowns more. “What’s going on, Naruto?”

“Sakura-chan,” she is his last hope.

“Yes, Naruto?” Sakura looks at him with sympathy yet confusion.

If only she knew how confused he was.

“You... can tell them now, Sakura-chan,” he manages. “Tell them everything, okay? Everything.”

“Are you sure?”

Naruto forces himself to get up and repeats, “Tell them. I’ll explain... later.” He’ll have to, but not now. Not now.

Sakura presses her lips but still says, “Alright.”

Naruto takes a step, but Hinata suddenly grabs him by the shoulder, turning him around; and the look in her eyes, understanding and forgiving, makes him want to die.

“Please, find Himawari,” she exhales. “The rest can wait.”

Naruto nods, squeezes her hand quickly, and takes off, to where he still senses Himawari’s presence—as well as Hidan’s.

Behind him, he hears Kakashi ask Sakura,

“What did Naruto mean? What is it that you ‘can tell us now’?”

Her answer doesn’t reach him.

***

Yet again he’s in the Valley of the End, seconds until battle, but this time it’s not Sasuke standing before him.

_Sasuke is gone, dead, his head in Naruto’s house, and right in front stands—_

Himawari.

All covered in blood, holding the scythe too big for her hands, the Rinnegan in her left eye.

So he was right.

Naruto thinks that he didn’t see Sasuke’s body, and Hidan is missing his left arm, the same one Sasuke had lost in their last fight.

So that’s what you were studying medical ninjutsu for, Himawari?

What a plan, truly; probably not even Shikamaru could have foreseen this.

Naruto looks at them, still unable to believe his eyes. His heart is pounding heavily, almost deafening him, and the only thought in his head is—this can’t be.

And Himawari is smiling blithely at him, facing him without a hint of fear in her eyes, and Hidan is grinning mockingly behind her.

And all of this is complete madness; _this_ can’t be real—why? How?

_For what?_

“Himawari,” his voice breaks, trembling, “why did you do that?”

“What do you mean, dad?” Himawari asks and laughs, her eyes full of indifference.

As though it’s not happening to her, to them; as though it’s a game for her or just a dream.

“You killed Sasuke,” Naruto rasps, still not wanting to admit that this is true.

Himawari shrugs, exchanges glances with Hidan, and they both laugh, so genuinely—this situation really amuses them, and how, _how_ can they?

How can _Himawari_?

Tears sting his eyes, but Naruto still holds on, not letting himself break down. Not now.

“I did,” she admits easily. “So what?”

“Death isn’t the worst fate,” Hidan nods, an unpleasant grin twisting his lips as he puts an arm around Himawari’s shoulders.

Naruto doesn’t understand how it could come to this.

_I’ll take care of her._

Oh, he will. Take care of her... Bastard; Naruto wants to scream, and it takes all of his effort to hold back from destroying everything in sight.

“Don’t be upset, dad,” Himawari looks at him again, and this time Naruto thinks he sees regret in her eyes, but perhaps it’s only foolish hope.

“Himawari,” he exhales desperately.

“There’s no need to worry,” she says. “You know, I can use all of these powerful techniques now...”

She laughs again.

“I can bring people back to life. Do you want me to do it? Want to see him again? And Sasuke. It’s easy for me.”

Rage rushes over Naruto in an instant, wild and burning; how dares she remind him, when the wounds are still fresh, when—

Naruto growls, letting Kurama’s chakra finally come out, anger coursing like fire through his body,

“Stop it!” And he lunges at her, still smiling, Rasengan forming in his hand, and he’s not even thinking that it will inevitably kill her.

But the blow reaches not her, but Hidan, who steps between them in a moment.

And someone pulls Naruto back, gripping his shoulder firmly.

Himawari’s hair turns white, and in the reddish light of the setting sun the pendant on her neck shines, shimmers—

And Naruto doesn’t need to look back to know who is standing behind him.

He throws his head back, chocking on hysterical laughter and sobs, as familiar arms, now warm, embrace him.

Himawari looks right into his eyes.

Her Rinnegan turns red, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of the light or something else.

“Won’t even thank the girl? She did her best,” Kakuzu whispers, a hint of soft mockery in his voice.

Naruto grips his wrist helplessly and outstretches his other hand towards Himawari, no longer able to move.

With the same serene smile, Himawari turns around and takes a step away.

She leaves as the wind ruffles her completely white hair, and Hidan follows her, holding her by the shoulder.

She doesn’t turn around, no matter how much Naruto calls for her, no matter how much he curses her.

She doesn’t turn around.

Doesn’t hear him.

Her small figure almost fades from view, only a shadow far away, and Naruto is alone. He falls to the ground, powerless, not supported by anyone no more, and cold void surrounds him once again.

As if through a thick wall he senses Hinata, Sakura, Shikamaru, Kakashi approach; ready to help, as always, to fix his mistakes; but he doesn’t care.

No one will change anything.

The last layer of the mirage dissolves, like transparent sand falling from Himawari’s black hair, and Naruto thinks he hears her laughter coming from somewhere far away.

Sasuke looks at him with empty, bloody eye sockets, grinning; ‘you’ve failed again, Uzumaki.’

_You’ve lost again._

***

“Dad, wake up,” Himawari’s voice sounds right next to him. She—it has to be her—slaps his face lightly, trying to make him come to his senses.

Naruto tries to open his eyes but can’t; he feels so exhausted that he can’t even move, he barely even makes out the meaning of her words.

Why is she here? Didn’t she leave Konoha as planned? It’s so strange.

“Come on, you bastard, get up, or are you gonna lie here all day?” A vaguely familiar rough voice, followed by a kick to the ribs, making him wince in pain.

Then—a sound of someone falling to the ground.

“You touch him one more time, and I swear, you will regret being immortal.” This voice is familiar too, so much so that for a moment Naruto feels inexplicable happiness—

Until he remembers.

This is just another delusion, it cannot be for real—or can it?

“Dad,” Himawari repeats, her voice breaking. “Come on, wake up!”

Naruto feels a cautious touch to his cheek and leans into it, trying to prolong the moment.

“Naruto,” Kakuzu says quietly, and it seems like he’s so close. “Open your eyes.”

“It’s another... genjutsu,” Naruto whispers hoarsely, finally overcoming his weakness. “You’re not here.”

_You’re dead._

Instead of answering Kakuzu kisses him slowly, barely touching; and his lips are warm, _alive_.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and Naruto hears a smile in his voice.

Kakuzu takes his hand, holding it firmly—just like before, and it gives him a little certainty.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Himawari whispers. “It’s not really up to me, it seems.”

“Don’t fear,” Kakuzu says. “I’m here yet.”

 _Yet._ What is it, just another mockery before he is gone again?

_A chance._

Naruto doesn’t know why he thinks that, why he still hopes for the impossible.

But if he imagines just for a moment...

That it’s real...

  
Naruto takes a deep breath.

  
And opens his eyes.


End file.
